Book 8 - Beggar's Banquet
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: ADULT CONTENT AND SITUATIONS. Castiel and Gail are sinking, and Sam and Dean will have to help them. Can Gail get the cure in time? And what will she have to sacrifice to get it?


BOOK 8 - BEGGAR'S BANQUET

Chapter 1 - The Power To Choose

Gail and Dean were sitting in the chairs opposite Crowley's desk, and Crowley was sitting behind it. He picked up a decanter and poured three stiff shots, pushing two of the glasses towards them. He threw back his own immediately, and poured another.

Dean looked at his glass, shrugged, then did the same. Crowley made a motion to the decanter, but Dean shook his head.

Gail just stared at her glass. She was too stunned to move. After they had left the wing where Lucifer's cage was located, Crowley had said, "Let's go to my office for a minute, talk about what we're going to do now."

Crowley had been stunned by what Metatron had said too, but characteristically, he had been the first one to recover. They shouldn't just stand here out in the open. Castiel was still here somewhere, and while there had been plenty to occupy him in the torture wing, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't begin to wander. All they'd need would be for him to round the corner holding a bloody blade and whistling a happy tune.

So he'd led the way to his office, and Dean had put his arm around Gail, steering her in that direction. Dean was starting to recover now too, and he was also wondering what the hell they were going to do now. Rowena was deader than dead; Gail had seen to that when they'd gone to Crowley's den to seek out Frank. But Dean knew that in their world there was usually a way around these things. Look at what they had just done, for instance. But why did Crowley look so perturbed, then? His mother had been a powerful witch, but she'd been human, and she'd been evil. Wouldn't she be here?

Gail had been too stunned to reason anything out, and she remained that way now. They were screwed, and once again, it was her fault. She had killed the only person who could have helped them. What the hell had Crowley meant, what were they going to do now? What WAS there to do?

Castiel was drenched in blood, and he was exhausted. His visit to Hell's torture wing had been both instructional and cathartic, but he was tired now, and he wanted to go home. He needed to get cleaned up, and he needed to be with Gail.

He frowned. Where was Crowley? He'd thought the King of Hell would have been back by now. Too bad Castiel couldn't just exit Hell by himself. As dark as he was now, he could still only enter and exit Hell in Crowley's company. He had asked his Brother about that, and Crowley had advised that Castiel hadn't fully turned yet. But with every violent act he committed, Castiel was turning further away from the light. As he had been such a high-ranking Angel, he had much farther to fall than others, and so the journey would take longer. Crowley had told him to be patient; he was well on his way.

Today's activities would go a long way towards his progress, Castiel thought with satisfaction. He had been very busy. But he was done now, for the time being anyway, and he needed to find Crowley. So he meandered through the halls, finally stopping to ask a minion where the King's office was.

The three of them sat in silence, thinking their individual thoughts. Crowley thought he might have an idea, and he was just opening his mouth to speak when there was a knock on the door.

"Crowley, are you in there? It's Castiel."

Gail looked up in terror. Oh, God. They had taken too long.

The doorknob rattled, but luckily Crowley had had the foresight to lock the door behind them. He hadn't wanted anyone to stumble in and find an Angel and a Winchester in here. He had arranged for the halls around the secure wing to be deserted when they'd arrived, and except for the one minion he'd arranged to escort Dean from the office when he'd arrived, no one knew they were here. Crowley had had to sacrifice the escort, of course, to keep it completely confidential. Just the cost of doing business.

"Crowley!" Cas pounded on the door. "Are you there?"

Crowley put a hand to his lips, looking at Dean and Gail. She was looking like she was going to lose it at any moment.

Crowley moved around the desk and unlocked the door, edging himself through it and closing it behind him. "I heard you," he said, making sure to sound irritated. "I was just catching up on some paperwork."

"I'm ready to leave," Castiel said to him.

Crowley examined his Brother. He'd just bet he was. How he was even still standing was beyond Crowley. Based on the amount of blood on his clothes and the expression on his face, he was all in.

"Give me ten minutes," Crowley said to Castiel. "I have to close a couple more files."

"All right, then let me come in there," Castiel said, motioning his head to the door. "I need to sit down."

"You're a mess, and you're not getting blood all over my furniture. I just had it reupholstered," Crowley told him. "Wait here."

Crowley slipped back into the office, locking the door behind him. Castiel stood in the hallway, fuming. That office was going to be his soon, he vowed. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor. He really did need a rest.

Crowley put his a finger to his lips again as his guests looked at him, panicked. Then he stood between Gail and Dean and looked at his desk. Clean as a whistle. He snapped his fingers and a pile of files appeared, then he waved his hand and messed the papers up a bit. That would have to do. Then he put one hand on each of their arms and winked them out of his office.

They reappeared in the warehouse, and Crowley pushed Gail back into the middle of the floor, where she'd been standing when he and Castiel had left.

"No time for finesse, sweetheart," he told her. "You have to be in exactly the same position as you were when we left you." He drew the circle of holy oil around her and lit it on fire.

Dean was looking around. What was this place? This was where they'd been right before Crowley and Gail had come to the bunker? Why? What had the three of them been doing here, and how long had they been meeting like this?

"Crowley - " Gail started to say, stepping forward involuntarily.

Crowley looked down at her legs. "I wouldn't recommend doing that when I bring your boyfriend back," he said sardonically.

Dean rushed forward, but Crowley restrained him. "Gail! Your legs!" Dean yelled.

She looked down at herself. Her leg was in the fire, and her foot was outside the circle. But the fire didn't burn and it didn't hurt. What a surreal experience. She looked up at Crowley.

"Well, I guess I'll have to figure out a different way to get you to stay put in the future," Crowley said dryly. "That extra dose definitely did the trick." He looked at Dean. "Say goodbye. We've got to go."

"Thanks, Dean," Gail said. "And thank you, too," she said to Crowley.

Crowley gave her a small bow. "I'll contact you as soon as I can," he said. Then he grabbed Dean's arm and they were gone.

"We're back," Crowley called out. He and Dean had appeared in the library area as soon as Dean had extended the invitation, and Bobby and Sam came rushing out from the kitchen.

Dean stood looking down at his own dead body, having a surreal experience of his own. "How do I get back in there?"

"Leave it to me," Crowley said. He snapped his fingers and Dean disappeared. Sam was on the verge of yelling, asking the King of Hell what he was trying to pull, but Crowley had already bent down and put his hand on Dean's head. A minute or two later, Dean stretched as if he'd been enjoying a deep sleep, then he sat up, blinking. "Un-freakin'-real," he said to the men.

Sam and Bobby took one arm each and helped Dean to his feet, then Sam pulled his brother into his arms for a hug.

"I hate to interrupt this happy family scene, but I have to go," Crowley said. "I'll be in touch." Then he vanished.

Crowley reappeared at his office door in Hell. He took a breath, brushed imaginary lint off his suit jacket, and unlocked the door. "You might as well come in," he said to Castiel, putting on a tone of annoyance. "But you'll have to stand. I'll just be a moment."

Castiel entered the office, looking around. It was a little smaller than he'd expected, but it was nicely furnished. He could see himself here. He looked at the plush couch on the other side of the room and smiled. And he could definitely see himself and Gail there. She probably wouldn't mind a change of venue now and then. He looked at the desk. Maybe he'd get her a chair and she could sit beside him there. She was his partner, after all.

He noticed the three glasses. "I thought you said you were working on files," Castiel said.

Crowley was making a show of closing files and shuffling papers, and he froze for a moment. He had forgotten about those. "Not everything is your business, Castiel," he snapped. There. That ought to shut his Brother up.

Castiel frowned, but he was too tired to argue. When Crowley said, "Let's go," Cas was only too glad to take his arm.

They reappeared in the warehouse, where Gail was standing in the circle of fire. She had made sure to stay in the centre and not move a muscle, and when the two men appeared, she arranged her features to look annoyed.

"It's about time!" she said. "Get me out of here, Crowley! I'm sick of standing here!"

He approached her, trying not to smile. Good girl. Crowley snapped his fingers, extinguishing the fire, then waved his hand and the circle of holy oil was gone. Only then did Gail move forward. Castiel came to her and tried to put his arms around her, but she sidestepped him. "Let's get you cleaned up first," she said to him.

Cas smiled. Understandable. He did take her hand, and she didn't pull away, though his hand was as bloody as the rest of him. She could wash her hand, and the fear of her near discovery in Crowley's office was still too fresh. Also, they hadn't had a chance to talk about what Metatron had said, and its implications. Had they gone through all that for nothing?

"We'll have to meet again, soon," Crowley said to them. "But for now, I think you'd better take your boyfriend home, sweetheart. He's looking worn out."

She stared at Crowley, trying to communicate her thanks with her eyes. He looked at her evenly, thinking she may not want to thank him. There may be a way to get to his mother, but it would require further sacrifice on her part. Just how far would she be willing to go to save Castiel?

And there was something else she may not want to thank Crowley for, though it was hardly his fault. After all, she had agreed to pay the price of admission. Just before she and Castiel disappeared from the warehouse, Crowley had seen her eyes darken from a medium brown to a darker brown. For a moment there, he could have sworn they'd almost looked black.

Cas went immediately to the shower, and he took his blade with him. He showered thoroughly, then rinsed the blade off, watching the blood go down the drain. Then he towelled himself off and wiped the blade clean. God, he was tired. But he was also exhilarated. As annoying as Crowley was at times, he did manage to provide a wide assortment of outlets for Castiel's particular needs. Well, the violent ones, anyway. The others would be taken care of right now.

He was so exhausted that he walked into the bedroom absently carrying the blade. He hadn't bothered to dress, so Cas had no pocket in which to put it. It was only when he got to the bed that he noticed it was still in his hand. He put it on the nightstand, then got into bed, reaching for Gail.

But she sat up, evading his arms. "What's that doing there?" Gail asked angrily, pointing at the blade.

Cas was annoyed at her tone. "Nothing," he said shortly. "I had it in my hand, so I put it down."

Gail didn't want to see it there, especially not within his arm's reach. "Well, pick it back up," she said, agitated.

Cas's eyes narrowed. "I'm tired, Gail. I'll do it in the morning. Come here." He reached for her again, but she pushed his arms away. Gail was shaking now, but it was more from anger than from fear. Although there was some fear, as well.

"No!" she said, raising her voice. "That thing's leaving this room right now, or I am!"

His eyes flashed bright purple. "Is that right?" he asked her in a quiet voice.

Gail was shaking violently now. "Yes, that's right," she retorted. He continued to stare at her, but she didn't dare look away, and she didn't dare back down. If she bent the rule now, she knew it would break.

Cas was angry now. He hadn't intended to use the damn thing, he'd just forgotten it was in his hand. He was tired, he was comfortable, and he just wanted her to touch him. Maybe after she took care of him, he could shut his eyes for a few minutes and recharge his batteries.

"If you want it gone so badly, you can put it somewhere yourself," Cas said to her.

"Really?" Gail said sarcastically. "Can I? I can put it anywhere I want?"

"Yes, yes," Cas said impatiently. "Just do it."

"All right, I will," Gail said brightly. She got out of the bed, walked around to his side, and grabbed the blade from the nightstand. "How about if I put it...here?" she said, holding it to his throat.

Cas's eyes flashed again, then they narrowed. Was she joking? Then he looked into her eyes and noticed that they looked darker than usual. Why were they such a strange colour?

Gail wanted to see what he would do next. This had been a really risky move on her part, she knew, but it was time he was taught that a rule was a rule, and a promise was a promise. She had to regain some of her power in the relationship, or die trying.

Cas glared at her for a moment. He knew she wouldn't actually do it; she was just trying to prove a point. He could easily overpower her if he wanted to, turn the blade back on her.

Instead, he smiled. She was showing him why he loved her and had picked her to be his partner. He had been hoping she would stand up to him and give him a challenge. It would make things more exciting.

"Easy does it," Cas said lightly. "It turns out I do have a bit of energy after all. I'll just take that and put it downstairs, okay?"

Gail took the blade away from his throat but held onto it. Was he sincere, or was it a trick?

Cas started to swing his legs off the bed and she moved back a step, allowing him to sit up. She backed up another step as he stood. He put his hand out for the blade and she gave it to him. Once again, she waited to see what he'd do next. She was more than a little afraid, but she stood her ground.

He stared at her for a moment, then turned and left the room. She could hear him walking down the stairs, then, after a moment, walking back up. He appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, holding up his hands. "OK to enter? As you can see, the blade is gone," he said sardonically.

Well, he definitely didn't have it any more, Gail thought with faint amusement. Cas was still naked; unless he was a special kind of magician, he couldn't possibly be hiding it. There was something else he wasn't bothering to hide, too. He was in an obvious state of excitement.

Cas walked to her and pressed his body against hers, kissing her with his tongue. She moved her hand down to tocuh him and he moaned. She supposed he deserved a reward for obeying her wishes and not getting violent about it. What a sad thing to think, but she had to play with the cards she'd been dealt until there was a re-shuffle, or she decided to quit the game. After what she'd just heard from Metatron, it could go either way now.

But for now, she said, "Come and lay down." She took his hands and led him to the bed, and when they were in it, she moved immediately down his body and took him in her mouth. He moved with her, and a minute later he was crying out her name. Her defiance had excited him that much. Once he was rested, he would have to give her the reciprocation she deserved.

Gail moved up to kiss him on the mouth and he took her in his arms, sighing appreciatively. "I love you," he murmured. Then Cas closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

Gail gently extricated herself from his arms and stood there for a moment, looking down at him. He was actually sleeping, and sleeping deeply. Wow. She'd have to ask Crowley about that. It would almost be worth going through another dosing or two if she could just join him for a night, she thought with dark humour. It'd be nice to have that escape for a while.

But she was wasting time. She moved quietly around the bed and grabbed her clothes from the floor where she'd left them, dressing quickly. Then she took a deep breath and winked herself into the bunker.

Sam and Dean were sitting at the library table having a beer when Gail appeared. She walked up to Dean immediately and put her hand on his shoulder. "Thank God. I just needed to see you, make sure you were OK," she told him. A small part of her had been worried that Crowley wouldn't actually bring Dean back.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean told her. "How are you?"

"I'm all right, Dean," Gail sighed. She wasn't, really, but compared to how she'd been some other nights, it was still an improvement.

"Where's Cas?" Sam asked her.

"Believe it or not, he's sleeping," Gail said, making a face. "Apparently, he does that now."

The brothers looked at each other. Did Demons sleep? Dean frowned. More proof of Cas's non-Angel status.

"Dean told me what happened," Sam said. "So you need Rowena to tell you how to reverse the spell?"

Gail laughed shortly. "Yeah. And I chopped off her head."

Sam looked at her sharply. It wasn't like Gail to speak so bluntly. How much was the extra dose Crowley had administered to her here affecting her now? Her eyes looked like they were a darker brown than he remembered, and he had looked into them a lot.

"There's always a way, Gail," Dean said, taking a sip of beer. "We just have to think of it."

"Oh, well if that's all we have to do, I'll get right on it. Piece of cake," she said sarcastically.

"I'll look at the spell book," Sam said. "I haven't really had the chance to go over it thoroughly."

Gail shrugged. "Might as well. But unless it's got a section on reversing rogue spells, I don't know if it'll do us much good."

"I think Crowley might have something," Dean said.

Gail's heart skipped a beat. "What? Why do you say that?"

"I dunno, he just had a look on his face when we were in his office. And I think he was about to say something when Cas knocked on the door," Dean replied.

"I'll have to call him, then," Gail said. Dean held up his cell phone. "We can call him here. Put it on speaker so we can all hear."

Oh. Right. She'd been thinking she would just call him with her mind, as he'd advised she could do now. But this would be better; then they'd all be in the loop. "Where's Bobby?" she asked them.

"Heaven," Sam replied shortly.

Made sense. Sometimes Gail almost forgot he was God. He had many other things on his plate. It was only because they were his friends that they'd been visited by him on Earth as much as they had been. Her and Cas's problem was extremely serious, but they were not the only ones Bobby had to deal with. She wondered idly if the new board had been formed yet, and how their Angel friends were doing. She hoped word hadn't leaked out about what she and Cas had been going through. Things had been tough enough in Heaven for Castiel over the years without people finding out about what he was now.

"Miss me already?" Crowley quipped, when he'd seen who was calling. He was sitting on the couch in his office, sipping another drink, and he'd been thinking about their little dilemma. The first step in trying to get to his mother would be to set up a meeting with a very objectionable individual. Crowley and the Winchesters were acquainted with this entity through their dealings with him in the past, but Gail had been fortunate enough not to have encountered him yet. Once again, Crowley wondered just how far she was willing to go to obtain the spell that would cure Castiel. He was pretty sure he knew: all the way.

Dean made a face. This was just Crowley being Crowley, he knew, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. The King of Hell had better not think this temporary and forced partnership had turned them back into besties. Dean had just been in Hell, but he was no Demon. Unlike Cas, and maybe Gail now too, he thought bitterly. He'd also seen her eyes.

"We've got Gail here," Dean told Crowley. "I'm putting you on speaker. We need to talk." He pushed the speaker button and put the phone on the table.

"How are you, sweetheart?" Crowley asked casually, but he really did want to know. He'd been wondering which Castiel Gail would see when they got home. He'd seemed too tired to brutalize her tonight.

Gail smiled, and her eyes grew darker as she thought about her victory earlier. "Untouched," she said, almost cheerfully. She was staring off into space, as if Crowley was standing right in front of her. "He did bring the blade into the bedroom again, but I think it was an accident this time. I gave him hell about it, though, and I finally persuaded him to get rid of it. After I put it to his throat."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, open-mouthed. Unbelievable. Now they were starting to worry about Gail in a different way. It wasn't just her eyes, it was the way she was talking about holding a blade on Cas as if it were an amusing anecdote. Not that she wouldn't have plenty of reason, after the way he had treated her. But now the nauseating secret was out. Not only had Cas inflicted numerous bruises and abrasions on her body, but he had obviously used his blade on her, as well. Sam had never been more shocked or more angry in his life. He had suspected that something was up when she'd shown up here bleeding, but he hadn't been able to believe it was anything as bad as that. The next time he saw Cas, Cas was a dead man.

But Crowley threw back his head and laughed, and his eyes began to water. Fantastic. His respect for Gail grew, and so did his affection. "Good girl!" he exclaimed. "And he gave you no further trouble after that?"

"Yep," she confirmed cheerfully. "In fact, he's asleep right now. That's how I was able to come here. I wanted to ask you about that, though. Do you guys sleep?"

As appalled as they were, the Winchesters leaned forward. They really wanted to hear the answer to the question.

Crowley remained amused. "I'll tell you, but I'm not sure you want me to be on speaker when you do," he said, smiling.

Gail paused for a moment. She thought she might have an idea of what he was getting at. But she realized now that she had just accidentally divulged one of the most shameful things that had happened in that bedroom to the brothers.

For a moment there, she'd been talking directly to Crowley. Once again, he had not expressed disgust or judged her for it. And it wasn't as if she'd enjoyed it, or had signified to Cas in any way that what he had done was acceptable. In fact, she had left him immediately afterwards. But she should have saved that just for Crowley. Now she had opened up her big mouth, and Dean was looking like he was going to throw up, while Sam was looking murderous. They'd better not ever find out what had happened after Cas had made her bleed; she'd have to peel them off the ceiling.

She sighed. She guessed that was one less secret she had to hide now. "Go ahead, Crowley. Say it," she said.

"Demons only sleep under two circumstances. If we drink heavily, we will sometimes fall asleep for a short time. Although that might be more like passing out," he said dryly. He'd had lots of experience with that particular phenomenon himself; after Gail had killed his mother, Crowley had been at loose ends and he'd wallowed in alcohol for a while, often passing out on this very couch. But he hadn't blamed Gail for killing Rowena then, and he didn't blame her now. In actual fact, she had done him a huge favour. Crowley hated his mother. He hated all witches. Humans had had the right idea when they'd been burning them at the stake.

He continued, "And Demons can also sleep after having been satisfied sexually. Unfortunately, it's been far too long for me in that regard. Unless you'd care to help out? We could negotiate terms," he teased her.

"Shut up, Crowley," Sam barked.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Stand down, Moose. I was only having a laugh." He was going with that.

But Gail was amused. She knew the way Crowley talked by now, and it didn't bother her. She supposed she should feel embarrassed, but what Crowley had said was actually pretty tame, compared to what he could have said. She'd expected far worse, and in much more graphic terms. And it wasn't as if Sam and Dean didn't already know that she and Cas had been having sex. Although the frequency and the variety might shock them a little. But she and Cas had had far more rigorous activities other days, she thought. Maybe it was just because Cas had been so worn out from his trip to Hell.

"The sleep doesn't last long, though," Crowley said. "So I'd be brief, if I were you."

"OK, I will," Gail responded. She was feeling edgy now, anxious to get back before Cas woke up and saw that she was gone. "What are we going to have to do to talk to Rowena?" She had come to the conclusion now that it was possible, and that Crowley knew how to do it. Dean had advised that Crowley seemed to have an idea, and she could just bet that he did.

"A couple of things," Crowley replied evasively. "Before we can possibly get to talk to her, we have to clear it through a certain individual. But this isn't a conversation I want to have over the phone."

Gail sighed. Of course not. But her heart filled with hope. So there was a way, and Crowley knew it, and he was still willing to help her. But who was this "individual" he was talking about?

"All right, then how can we meet in person?" she asked Crowley. "And what are we going to do about Cas?" Funny, she was certainly spending a lot of time and effort lately trying to get rid of the man she loved. OK, maybe not so funny.

"Leave that to me," Crowley said.

Gail's heart sank. Another foray into Hell to torture countless beings? They were certainly not saints if they were down there, but still...Chuck had been in Hell at one point, and so had Becky. And how about Frank? Were there others like them there, now suffering at Castiel's hands? She wavered between what was right, and what was right for her. Humans faced these kinds of dilemmas all the time, but Gail was literally part Angel and part Demon now, and the two sides were doing battle.

The Angel won out for the moment. "Does he really have to..." she was momentarily at a loss for words, "...do what he was doing today?"

"Growing a conscience, sweetheart?" Crowley said sardonically. "What do you think he's been doing this whole time, hosting tea parties?"

He was right, of course. She'd been sitting by and doing nothing except for washing Cas's bloody clothes and being a mostly willing receptacle for him when he came home. Protecting herself. But why was she doing it? To keep him placated, in the short term. But in the long term, Gail was doing all this plotting and scheming in order to find the cure and to restore Castiel to the kind of Angel and the kind of man she knew him to be. How many wrongs made a right, exactly? Did the end justify the means?

So far, in her mind, it did. So she sighed and said, "Do what you have to do, Crowley. I leave it in your hands."

With those words, the clock on the mantel over the bunker's fireplace chimed. Christmas Day was officially over.

They concluded the call to Crowley, and Gail was feeling a real sense of urgency now. She'd nearly overstayed and been discovered in Hell; if Cas woke up and couldn't find her at the house, there would be no one to bail her out there.

Crowley had told Gail that he would contact her privately once he had set up the meeting with the unidentified individual he'd mentioned, and once he had arranged the latest distraction for Cas. That would have to do for now.

Gail looked at Sam and Dean. "I've got to go," she said. "You'll hear from either me or Crowley shortly." She moved to Sam to give and receive her usual hug, but then she stopped. He was looking at her with an expression that suggested he thought that she and Crowley might be interchangable at this point, and it was starting to make her mad. She knew what he was thinking.

"It's not as if I liked - " she started to say. "It's not as if I enjoy - " She gave up. Sam was shaking his head.

"I know, Gail," he said sadly. "But you're going back there now, aren't you?"

"Yes, so what's your point?" she said heatedly. "You heard me. He won't be bringing the blade in there again. If he tries that, I'll stick him with it."

Sam was appalled. Did she realize how she sounded? How that sounded? What the hell kind of a relationship was that? Yeah, Cas was a Demon, and yeah, she wanted to cure him, out of some sense of misguided loyalty, maybe. But this was too much.

"Are you happy, Gail?" Dean broke in suddenly.

She turned to look at him, and Dean wondered where that had come from. He'd just blurted it out. But now that he had, he realized it was the world's stupidest question. Of course she wasn't happy. Look at her. Look at what she went home to every night. But he actually kind of got it, too. He'd do anything for Sam. Anything. And for Cas, too, at least the Cas he knew. And he might as well add Gail to that list now. Loving your family was just like that; you did whatever you had to do for them.

"No, of course not," Gail retorted in answer to Dean's question. "What do you want from me, Dean?"

"I want you to be happy," Dean replied simply.

He would have to go and say that now. "Don't be such an asshat," she said to him, trying to smile. "You're going to make me cry, and then I'll really have some explaining to do."

Gail had had all she could take for the moment. She vanished from the bunker.

Mercifully, Cas was still sleeping, and she eased herself back into the bed and put her arms around him. He started awake, then looked at her, smiling.

"Have I been sleeping?" he asked her softly.

She nodded. "Yep," she said casually. "But not snoring, thankfully."

Cas was a little surprised, but then he shrugged. It's not like that happened all the time; he'd just been so exhausted. "You're not mad, are you?" he asked her.

Gail smiled. If only he knew. "Not at all," she said mildly. "If your batteries need a recharge every now and then, you go right ahead. I can wait."

Cas smiled back. She was being so understanding. But he was awake now. He started to caress her and she kissed him, using her tongue. The Demon was coming out in her now, and she welcomed it. She loved Cas, and if he could just stay within her boundaries, she could enjoy what they did here without losing sight of her goal. The best of both worlds, in a way.

He started to stroke her and she sighed contentedly.

"What do you need, Gail?" he murmured. It had been a while since he'd asked her that, and she realized the answer hadn't changed, though their circumstances had, and radically.

"You," she answered truthfully. She hoped she'd always be able to say that and mean it, like she did right now.

"How?" he asked her.

"Dealer's choice," she replied, smiling.

Cas smiled. No wonder he loved her so much.

While their friends were in the act of loving, the Winchester brothers were in the process of fighting.

"She's in total denial, Dean!" Sam was saying. He was agitated. Ever since their instructional but nauseating phone call to Crowley, Sam had been stewing over what Cas had been subjecting Gail to, and over what she was apparently willing to accept. That business about the blade had been the last straw. Cas was a monster now; not just a Demon, but much, much worse. Dean had been a Demon once, and he hadn't done anything nearly that bad. Or perhaps it was Sam who was in denial on that score.

But Dean wasn't so sure. "I don't think she is," he mused. It had sickened him too to hear Gail and Crowley's verbal exchange about the blade and to realize its implications, but Dean was more pragmatic about the situation. Sam hadn't been there in Hell, thank God, so he hadn't seen and heard Lucifer posing as Cas, saying those horrible things to her. And Sam had never been a Demon. Dean remembered some of the urges he'd had while he was in that state, and there were a few things he had done that he would never tell Sam about. And Dean had almost always felt free to indulge himself even before he'd been a Demon. Cas had been repressed and righteous for untold centuries; now that he was a Demon, he must be like a kid in a candy store.

"What do you mean?" Sam said angrily.

"I mean what I said," Dean shot back. "I think she's fully aware of what he is now. And obviously a part of her likes what he's got to offer. Did you see her eyes?"

Yes, Sam had seen her eyes, and he knew what Dean was telling him. She was part Demon now, too. That was why she was willing to accept what Cas was doing to her. But that didn't mean that Sam had to like it. "We've gotta get that cure, Dean."

"Hey, we're trying," Dean said to his brother. "I even let Crowley kill me, for crap's sake. You haven't truly lived until you've stood there and let the King of Hell stick a knife in your chest." He looked at Sam, eyebrows raised, but Sam was still frowning. "What? Come on, that was a little bit funny."

But Sam didn't think it was funny, not even a little bit. "I wonder who this mysterious 'individual' is that Crowley wants us to meet with," he speculated aloud.

Dean shrugged, Knowing Crowley, it was liable to be anyone. Or anything. "Can't be any worse than who Gail and me just had to see," he remarked.

Sam was still trying to analyze the situation. "Why would we need a go-between to talk to a dead witch?" he said. "Wouldn't she just be in Hell?"

"That's what I thought," Dean said.

"Well, what did Crowley say about that?" Sam asked impatiently.

"He didn't really say anything," Dean replied. "We didn't have much time for a conversation. Cas nearly barged in on us, so Crowley had to get Gail back to where they left her. I still don't know what was going on there, either. I think those three have been having some kind of secret meetings there for a while now."

Sam was upset to hear that Crowley, Cas and Gail had apparently been sneaking around behind their backs like that. Exactly whose side was Gail on? Did she think that she could play for both teams at the same time? He tried to remember the last time they'd had an open and honest discussion with her. She kept popping in here, talking about cures and playing the victim, but then she kept popping back out again before they could talk about anything real. Like what she was doing when she wasn't here. Gail and Crowley seemed a little too familiar these days, and far friendlier with each other than they should be given their history. And now Dean was telling him that she and Cas had apparently been having little get-togethers with Crowley on the side. What did they talk about? What did they do? And what was really going on in that house between Gail and Cas?

Right now, laundry was going on. Cas had fallen into another doze, and Gail had used the opportunity to gather up some clothes and go down to the basement. She threw her clothes and Cas's in together. She didn't mind doing a wash now and then, but she didn't want to make a career out of it. Next time, he could damn well do it himself. Must be nice to be able to sleep while your significant other was making things clean for you.

Speaking of which, maybe she should do some dusting, or something. The rest of the house had gone mainly unused, and the living room area in particular likely had a layer of dust on all the furniture by now. She doubted that Cas had had the foresight to lay in any cleaning supplies, but she thought she'd seen some paper towels in the kitchen when she'd been in there. Maybe she could just use those to get rid of some of the dust.

She went back up to the living room and looked around. They really should spend a bit more time here, she thought. She had to admit that Cas had done a nice job. The furniture was sturdy but comfortable, and the couch was plush. Maybe they could at least shift their activities down here once in a while.

As if reading her mind, Cas came walking down the stairs, yawning. "You weren't there when I woke up."

"I put some clothes in the washer," she told him. "Then I came up here to look around. It really is a nice room. We should spend more time here."

"We can do that," he said. He put his arms around her and kissed her. "Nothing wrong with a little variety."

His tongue was in her mouth now, and his hands were lifting her top. He pulled it off over her head and dropped it on the coffee table. "Let's find out how comfortable that couch really is," he said to her.

She let him lay her down on the couch and he pulled her pants off. Then his were off too, and he pushed her legs open. "So soft," he murmured, smiling. He was caressing the insides of her thighs, teasing her. Was he talking about her, or the couch? Who cared?

"Touch me, Cas," she breathed.

He looked at her, still smiling. "Do you really want me to do that?"

"Yes," she said. Nothing. He was waiting. OK. She knew what he was looking for. Just because she'd had her little victory earlier didn't mean that he wasn't still who and what he was now.

"Please, Cas," she said. "Please."

His face lit up, and he began to stroke her, then he used his tongue. When she was ready, he lifted her legs into the air and slipped into her. He kissed and licked her legs as he moved inside her, and she loved the sensation and loved watching him do it. Gail was very excited now, and she began making those little sounds he liked to hear.

But now that Cas had her attention, he felt the time was right to show her which of them really held the power in this situation. That little stunt she had pulled earlier had been cute, and it had excited him a great deal. But he was on top now, and he intended to stay there until she pushed him off.

So he withdrew from her and put her legs down. "Turn over," he said to her.

Gail looked at him, puzzled. She'd been enjoying what he was doing. "Why?" she asked him.

Cas frowned. "Just do it."

Gail looked at him suspiciously. What was he trying to pull?

"You'll like it, I promise." He smiled now, at his charming best.

She gave a half-shrug. What the hell. The couch was very soft, and she was still excited. She turned over onto her stomach and he raised her hips and re-entered her, reaching around to stroke her with one hand. OK, he was right. This was good. She started to moan. Then he went to the other place, and even though that hurt, he continued to stroke her and after a minute or two the pain receded in favour of the other feeling. She buried her face into the couch cushions, saying his name. He smiled. He'd known she would like it. Boundaries were sometimes elastic, and they could be stretched. He could pull on the elastic, see how far it would stretch until it snapped back. He thought about the blade he'd hidden under the couch. Too soon? But he felt powerful now. The sleep had refreshed him, and Gail had submitted to him. She was whimpering now, moving against him, telling him she loved him. He felt amazing.

He felt around under the couch with his free hand and found the blade. He brought it out and nicked her back with it. Then he laid down on top of her, still moving against her, driving now, and licked the blood that the cut had produced, sighing contentedly. He just wanted all of her. What was so wrong with that? He slipped the blade back under the couch and lifted her hips up, burying himself deep into her, groaning with pleasure.

Gail was so deep into the good feeling that she had no idea what Cas had done. She'd felt a momentary sting on her back, but she'd thought it was from Cas's stubble when he was licking her there. That had felt good too, so she hadn't objected. She didn't mind a little beard-burn on her body here and there. And she had to admit that she was liking this far more than she'd thought she would. They had never done this particular thing in Las Vegas. Maybe they had just never gotten around to it, or maybe Cas had been too shy to suggest it. She certainly never would have. But Demon Cas obviously had no such reservations, and Gail's eyes were growing darker now, too. So when he drove himself deep into her, it hurt, but she said, "Faster." He sped up his motion, and his fingers rubbed her harder. His hand clamped down on her hip, and she would have a bruise there tomorrow. But right now she didn't care. He lay on top of her again and licked her ear. "Say you love me," he murmured. "I love you, Cas," she breathed. "I love you so much." Cas smiled. He loved making her happy like this. She belonged to him now. "Say you'll do anything for me," he said in her ear. OK, a little variation from the routine, but so was what they were doing right now. Gail thought about how good he was making her feel, and what she'd already gone through in her pursuit of the cure. "I'll do anything for you, Cas," she said. Her body erupted in waves of pleasure as he licked her ear and told her he loved her. A moment later, he was still. Hearing her say she would do anything for him had excited him so much that he just couldn't hold out any longer.

After cuddling her for a minute, Cas lifted his body up and helped Gail flip over so that she was facing him again. He licked her lips and she opened her mouth to him. But his tongue tasted funny, and she broke the kiss. "You're bleeding," she said, touching his mouth with her hand.

"No, I'm not," he protested mildly. And it was the truth. It was her blood she was seeing and tasting.

"Well then, what's this?" She showed him the blood on her fingers. He'd probably bitten his lip when he'd gotten so excited. But she didn't see any cut there.

"It's not important," he said, smiling. Now he had a strange look on his face, like he had a secret. He looked very pleased with himself. Mind you, he had a right to be. That had been one of the best sessions they'd had in a while.

"I just love how you taste," Cas said softly. He was almost purring, she thought with amusement. He was being seductive again. Well, she didn't mind him talking like that, especially if he was going to do something about it. She was starting to feel excited again, already.

"Well, if we're going to do that, which would be very, very nice," she said, smiling, "let's go back upstairs. This has been fantastic, but I can stretch out a bit more up there."

She had misunderstood. Although he loved doing that to her, too. "I was talking about your blood," he told her.

Gail was startled. Where would her blood have come from? Yes, he had been a little rough there at the end, but she hadn't minded, not really. But she couldn't think of any way he could have gotten her blood on his lips.

"Where am I bleeding?" she asked him, looking down at herself.

"There's a small nick on your back where I cut you with my blade," Cas said casually. "But don't worry, it was the only one. I just needed to taste you again."

"What?!" she exclaimed. "How - "

"It was under the couch," he said lightly. "I saw the opportunity."

Gail was stunned, and her eyes started to darken. "What the hell is the matter with you?" she shouted. "I told you, no more of that!" She tried to get up, but he grabbed her arms, holding her down.

"You said you would do anything for me," he reminded her, his eyes darkening to match hers.

"Well, I didn't mean that!" She was shaking with anger now. "Let me go!" she exclaimed, struggling against him.

"Not until you understand," he replied evenly.

"The only thing I understand is that you went back on your promise," she retorted.

"You liked what we just did," Cas pointed out. "Even though I could tell it hurt you a bit. I can make you feel amazing, if you'll just let me do that once in a while. I need it."

Now she felt sick. Admittedly, she had liked what they had just done, but this was over the line. If she gave in to what he was suggesting, how long before he pushed it further and she was walking around in pain from head to toe again?

"No," she said shakily. "Now get off me."

"What if I don't?" he said quietly.

Her heart was beating really fast now. She was scared, but she'd better not show it. "You'd better," she said, matching his tone.

Suddenly, he smiled. "You're getting me all excited again." And it was true; she could see it for herself. What kind of a weird relationship did they have now? And how weird was it that she wanted him to take her upstairs anyway?

"OK, let's go upstairs," she said to him. "But first, you wash that off your face. And I'm taking that blade and hiding it somewhere until our next meeting with Crowley."

He stared at her, appearing to consider. But she had won. The elastic had snapped back, and he had enjoyed their exchange. Cas let go of her and stood from the couch, extending his hand to her. And God help her, she took it, and let him lead her up to the bedroom.

Then he was between her legs, and he was licking her with enthusiasm. He really did like the taste of her here, too. And she was loving it. She cried out, holding his head there. He pushed her legs open even further. She would have bruises on the insides of her thighs tomorrow, too. But she could worry about that later. What he was doing to her now was so intense that it was everything.

When he had satisfied her, Cas took her in his arms and kissed her, probing her mouth with his tongue. He hadn't bothered to wash his face, and he was enjoying the taste of all of her. He lifted his body up and pushed himself into her mouth, and she went with the motion, making him moan. What did he need the blade for, anyway? It didn't get any better than this. He closed his eyes, loving the feeling of her mouth and her tongue. He pushed deep into her, and she was taking it. She held the real power here. He needed her more than she needed him, and they both knew it. If she didn't tell him she loved him, who would? He didn't want anybody else, he just wanted her to keep doing this, and to keep letting him do what he did to her. He'd been crazy to think that he could control her. She was pulling the strings, not the other way around. But that didn't mean he would stop pushing, though. He loved it when she pushed back.

He was pushing now, crying out her name, telling her he loved her. And when he was done, he lowered himself to lay beside her and took her in his arms, looking at her warmly. "I love you, and I'll do whatever you want," Cas told her. He kissed her and she opened her mouth, giving him her tongue. She doubted he meant what he said, at least the part about doing whatever she wanted, but she had tamed him once again, for the time being, anyway. But it had been a painful lesson, and tomorrow her body would pay the price. She refused to be a helpless victim any more, but she had better not forget what Cas was now. If she didn't push back, he would either kill her or consume her, and she wasn't sure which would be worse.

Cas had fallen asleep again, and Gail eased herself out of bed. She was moving slowly so as not to disturb him, but as she crossed the bedroom to throw on some clothes, she realized she was extremely sore in a number of places. The old injuries had just begun to heal, and now she had a bunch of new ones. But she had allowed it to happen, and she had enjoyed what he had done to her, and with her. So it was her own fault, really. She had taken her stand about the blade, and that was the most important thing. The other aches and pains were just a by-product of keeping him happy, and if she was being honest with herself, she had been pretty happy, too.

She wished she had time to go looking for the blade, but she didn't have time for both. After she'd dressed, she tiptoed to the nightstand and lifted Cas's cell phone, putting it in her pocket. That was when she noticed her photo was missing. Where was it? But she didn't have time to look for it now, either. She'd better get to it.

Gail crept out of the bedroom and went down to the basement. She hoped Cas's phone got reception down here. She'd wanted to be as far away from the bedroom as possible when she made the call. And she had to be fast; he'd come down earlier, before she'd had the chance to go back up and check on him. Luckily, she hadn't been doing anything that time that he could catch her at.

She brought up the display on his phone that said Last Called, and she was relieved to see that it was Crowley's number. That way, when he used the phone next, that's what he would see if he looked; hopefully, he wouldn't notice the date and time.

Gail pressed the button and called Crowley.

"What's happening?" she said when Crowley answered.

"Whatever happened to 'Hello'?" he asked her. He sounded amused.

"I don't have much time," she told him. "Cas is napping right now, but I don't think it's a very deep sleep."

"Well, then, you're just not trying hard enough, sweetheart," he said, and now she could definitely hear the smile in his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's been sleeping plenty, don't you worry," she retorted. But why was she justifying herself to the King of Hell, anyway? Gail wondered. She knew he was just trying to needle her. So to speak.

Crowley laughed. "Don't get that Demon blood of yours boiling, now," he said lightly. "Save that temper for my Brother. I want to receive more reports like the one you gave me a little while ago."

Gail smiled despite herself. He really was pretty funny sometimes. But she'd better get down to business. "Have you been able to arrange anything yet?" she asked him.

"It just so happens that I have," he told her. "I've got a meeting set up for us for later this morning. Be at the bunker at 8:30, and I'll call Sam and Dean and tell them to expect us." He paused, then asked her a curious question: "I know you don't eat any more, but can you cook?"

Gail wrinkled her brow. That was a weird question. "Yeah, I guess so. Sam and I used to make breakfast together a lot in the bunker. Nothing fancy, of course, but if you're looking to feed whoever we're meeting with, I'm sure we can put something on for them." Now Gail was really intrigued. They obviously weren't meeting with an otherworldly being, if Crowley had promised breakfast. What kind of human would this be? she wondered.

And there was something else she needed to know: "What about Cas?" Gail asked Crowley.

"I have a project lined up for him," he told her. "and before you say anything, it's not in Hell this time. I don't want him there when I'm not there, and I have to be with you at the meeting. This particular individual is a little hard to pin down. He was actually very reluctant to come at all, but then I told him that you were going to be there."

"Me?" She was surprised. "Who are we meeting with, Crowley?"

"You'll see when we get there. Anyway, I'll call Castiel in a few minutes and have him meet me at the crossroads, then I'll send him on his little errand. When the coast is clear, I'll let you know, and you can pop over to the bunker. I'll have Sam and Dean meet us outside, so we can go directly to the meeting place."

"Okay," Gail said. "I'm using his phone right now, so give me a few minutes to put it back where it was before you call." She pressed End Call and hurried upstairs, anxious to get the phone back on the nightstand before Castiel woke up and noticed that both she and it were missing.

She walked quietly into the bedroom with the phone in her hand. Mercifully, he was still asleep. She walked to the nightstand to replace the phone, and as she reached out to set it down, the phone rang, and Cas's eyes opened.

Damn Crowley! She'd asked him to give her a few minutes!

Cas's hand clamped down on the wrist of the hand she was holding the phone in. "What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.

"The phone rang, and I hurried over here to answer it so it wouldn't wake you," she answered him quickly. She handed him the ringing phone.

He released her wrist and took the phone from her, but his eyes narrowed. Why was she dressed, then?

Gail could see the way he was looking at her, and she cursed herself. Why had she gotten dressed to make the call? The simple and illogical reason was that she hadn't wanted to call Crowley while she was naked. But Cas was looking at her now, wondering why she was already dressed if she had just gotten up to answer the phone. Dammit!

He looked at the Call Display. "It's Crowley," he said to her. He answered the phone. "What?"

Gail thought furiously. Since he was occupied now, she'd see if she could figure out a reason. Then she had it. The laundry. She had flipped the clothes over into the dryer after he'd fallen asleep the last time, but she hadn't taken them out.

She walked back down into the basement and opened the dryer, taking the clothes out and folding them on top of the washer. She was nearly finished when she heard him coming down the stairs into the basement.

"What did Crowley want?" she said casually, folding the last shirt.

Silence. She turned around to see him staring at her. "What?" she said lightly.

"Why are you dressed?" he asked her quietly. "And why were you dressed when you answered the phone?"

Lucky she had anticipated the question. "I was about to come down here to get the clothes when the phone rang," she told him, trying to keep her voice steady. "So I tried to pick it up quickly, so it wouldn't wake you. I was going to take a message. But you woke up, so I came down here and got the laundry."

"But why were you dressed?" he persisted.

Gail forced a laugh. "In case you haven't noticed, it's chilly down here. It is winter, you know. And I notice you're dressed, too."

He started to smile. She had him there. He had been nice and warm in the bed, but he had jumped out of it when he heard what Crowley had had to say, and after they hung up, he'd felt cold. So he had thrown on a pair of pants and a shirt and then searched the house for her.

"Are you cold?" Cas asked her.

She'd already been shaking, so it was easy for her to manufacture a shiver. "A little," she told him.

"Well, come here, then," he said, opening his arms. He embraced her warmly and kissed her on the forehead. "Any time you feel cold, you just let me know," he said softly.

She clung to him. If she could have, say, 75% of him the way he was being right now, and 25% of him the way he'd been last night, without the fear and the violence, she'd take that all day long.

Cas pulled out of the hug. "Unfortunately, I have to go," he said to her.

"Go? Go where?" she asked innocently.

"Crowley's got a special project for me," he said evasively. He didn't want to tell her exactly what Crowley had said. Cas wasn't sure if she would approve, and while he didn't particularly care, he didn't want to argue about it. He reached out and gave her a squeeze. "Nothing to be concerned about. I'll be back as soon as I can." He expected her to ask him questions, or to ask to go with him, so he was surprised when she merely said, "OK. I'll see you when you get back, then."

One more kiss, and he winked out of the house to meet Crowley at the crossroads. Her lack of interest in what he and Crowley were up to should have raised a red flag, but Cas had been just so damn excited by Crowley's phone call that he didn't stop to think about it. Crowley had told him that he had located Xavier.

After Cas left, Gail grabbed the clothes and ran upstairs, dumping them on the floor in the closet. She didn't think she'd have time to hang them up. As it was, she didn't know if she'd have time for a shower, but she had to have one anyway. So she ran into the bathroom, stripping her clothes off on the way, and jumped into the shower.

She heard Crowley's voice in her head just as she was putting on fresh clothes. "Time to come to the bunker, sweetheart. And you'd better hurry." She finished dressing, combed her hair, and popped out of the house.

When Cas appeared at the crossroads, he realized he didn't have his blade. Stupid, really. Funny, he couldn't recall a time when he'd ever gone anywhere without it. He preferred his Earthly clothes for the way they made him look, but it was a pain having to change them all the time. Of course, his blade was currently under the living room couch at the moment, unless Gail had stashed it somewhere else, as she had threatened to do. Damn it.

He was just about to pop back home to retrieve it, or to make her tell him where she'd hidden it, when Crowley appeared.

"Hold on," he told Crowley, "I have to go home and get my blade."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. Castiel had actually shown up for a meeting with the King of Hell without his trusty blade? Wonders never ceased. For an instant, he contemplated just killing Castiel right then and there, putting everyone out of their misery. He was nothing but a burden to the Winchesters now, and to Gail, as well. They were jumping through flaming hoops to try to sort out a cure for his Brother, and none of them even knew if the spell could be reversed at all. If it could not, Bobby would be faced with the horrifying task of sacrificing Castiel, and perhaps Gail, too, depending on whether she was so far gone that she was beyond redemption. And even if they were successful in effecting a cure and rehabilitating Castiel, Crowley knew that it would be a long and difficult road back for him. His actions thus far had severely damaged his relationship with Dean and especially Sam, maybe irrevocably. And as for Gail? Who knew? The longer she stayed in that house with him, the worse things were likely to get. Crowley wouldn't be at all surprised if she broke down soon and killed his Brother herself. But she'd best remember that an Angel blade would no longer do the job.

The King of Hell sighed. He supposed he would let Castiel live, for now, anyway. Crowley had gone to a lot of trouble to set up this morning's meeting, and he did not dare screw around with this individual.

"You don't need your blade for this," Crowley pointed out to his Brother. "Xavier is human, remember?"

Castiel considered this. What Crowley said was true, but he really wanted to spend some time with Xavier before killing him, and to use anything but his own blade on an individual he hated that much was unthinkable. He owed Xavier a great deal of payback. This was personal, and he needed to use his own personal weapon.

"No, I need my blade," Cas protested. "Wait here." He popped into the living room of the house. He could hear the shower going upstairs, and he smiled. She was going to be scrubbed clean when he got home, and she would smell so nice. He wished he had time to pop in there for a visit. But Crowley was not liable to wait for too long; his Brother was irascible at the best of times, and he was not very patient. And if he had found Xavier and was willing to lead Cas to him, Cas had better not keep him waiting. This was something Cas wanted very much.

So he felt around under the couch and found his blade where he'd left it. He withdrew it from its hiding place and looked at it, smiling, remembering his experience with Gail on this couch. A few drops of her blood were still on the blade, and seeing that made him feel warm inside. He didn't understand why she couldn't just go with it. It wasn't as if he was going to harm her, he just wanted to enhance what they already did, what she was already very willing to do, with that extra layer of intimacy. She would never have even known about it if he had not been honest with her. But then he had gotten away with a few things last night, and she had ended up loving what he had done. He saw no reason he couldn't do it again. It was easier to do it first, then ask for forgiveness afterwards. She might be mad, but he didn't mind that. He liked seeing her eyes darken. But, it was strange; after he'd dosed her the second time, her eyes had remained the same colour, and she had acted differently than she was acting now. Had the second dose taken this long to kick in? It was curious, really.

But there was no time to think about that now. He stashed the blade in his pocket, leaving Gail's blood on it. When he used it on Xavier and told her about it later, he was sure she would approve. Xavier had persecuted her too, and he had attempted to put her to death. When he tortured Xavier with a blade that already had Gail's blood on it, it would be like she was torturing Xavier, too. Real justice, finally, for the both of them.

He smiled grimly, winking out of the house once more.

When Cas reappeared at the crossroads, Crowley was still there, but he was fuming. He'd had to wait to make sure Castiel was happily occupied elsewhere, but now they were behind schedule.

"Got it," Cas said, patting his pocket.

Crowley glared at him, then removed a piece of paper from his own pocket. "Here's a list of shelters he's been spotted at." He handed the piece of paper to Castiel.

Cas looked at it. "There must be twenty places on here!" he said angrily. "I thought you said you'd located him!"

"He's a transient," Crowley said. "He moves around from place to place, depending on availability. I'm sure you remember what that's like," he couldn't resist adding. When God had taken away Castiel's powers and made him a human, Castiel had led the same kind of lifestyle for a while. Crowley knew this, of course.

Cas was frustrated. Was he supposed to go on a fishing expedition here? He made to hand the paper back to Crowley. "Maybe we should just wait until you've narrowed it down a bit more."

Now it was Crowley's turn to be angry, but he was aware of the clock ticking, as well. Why did his Brother have to make everything so difficult?

"Do you or do you not want to take your revenge on Xavier?" Crowley snapped. "I'm doing you a big favour here. You've been so busy using your blade that you've forgotten how to use your head." And not just on his enemies, either. Crowley was inexplicably angry that Castiel had been using it on Gail, as what the King of Hell could only assume was an odd sort of foreplay. But why should Crowley care about what went on behind closed doors in that house, anyway? He wasn't bucking for sainthood. But when she had come to him Christmas morning, bleeding and looking so pathetic, Crowley had felt compassion for her, a rare emotion for him. He was glad that she had now laid down the law on the subject, but Crowley suspected that his Brother wasn't going to let that stand for long.

Castiel frowned at the insult. "What do you mean?" he barked.

"Think about it," Crowley retorted. "We've got the search area narrowed down, and he had been spotted at some of those places. But if you don't act now, he could go off the radar at any time. And if he does, there's no guarantee we'll be able to find him again. Surely a little effort on your part is warranted if you want to achieve your goal."

Cas sighed. He supposed Crowley was right. "OK," he said, looking at the list again. "I'll see you later, then." He disappeared without another word.

Not even a thank you. Typical. But Crowley could be angry about that later. He was running late now as it was. So he sent the urgent message to Gail and then snapped his fingers, reappearing outside the bunker.

Sam and Dean were already outside when Crowley reappeared, and a minute later, Gail showed up.

"Hi," she said to the men.

"Let's roll," Dean said to Crowley, who smiled inwardly. Dean wouldn't be in such a hurry if he knew who they were going to meet. He put his hand on Dean's arm and motioned to Gail to do the same thing with Sam.

"Patty's Diner, on 3rd," Crowley said to her. Now that she knew where they were going, Gail could pop Sam over there, while Crowley did the same thing with Dean.

Gail was startled. That was the same place she had gone to with Frank the day they'd had their last drive together. It was likely just a coincidence, but it was weird just the same. What was Frank doing now? she wondered. She felt a stab of guilt. She hadn't even spoken to her brother since he's left on the road to resume Hunting. She'd been so happy to have him back, and now she was behaving as if he didn't exist. But it was for Frank's own good. If he saw her now, he would freak out. Even if he wasn't able to see most of the marks Cas had been leaving on her body, he would notice her eyes, and the change in her personality. Frank had told her he knew Demon when he saw it, and Gail couldn't risk him finding out the truth about her and Cas. He would feel compelled to get involved, and then Cas would kill him.

They reappeared inside the diner, and Crowley moved immediately, locking the door and pulling the window blinds shut. Gail and the Winchesters looked around. The place was deserted, except for the man wearing a suit who was sitting at a table near the back kitchen area.

Dean groaned. "Come on, Crowley! Really?" he said, looking at the man.

Sam laughed shortly, shaking his head. Great.

But Gail was puzzled. Sam and Dean obviously knew this guy, and they were also obviously not thrilled to see him now. But she had no idea who he was. He was a pale, dour-looking individual. He did not say anything in greeting; he just sat there and stared at them.

Crowley walked over to where the man sat and made a small bow to him. "My Brother," he said deferentially.

"Crowley," the man acknowledged briefly.

"I believe you've made Sam and Dean's acquaintance once or twice," Crowley said with a slight smile, as the brothers approached the table.

"Unfortunately, that is true," the man replied, and his mouth twitched in a moue of distaste.

Sam and Dean glared at him. The feeling was mutual. Actually, now that they thought about it, it figured that this guy would be involved.

The man stared past them at Gail. "But I am eager to make your aquaintance," he said to her.

Sam and Dean moved involuntarily to block the man's view of Gail. It made them extremely uncomfortable for him to look at her with such interest.

But the man crooked his finger, and the brothers were pushed apart. "Have a seat, gentlemen," the stranger said to them evenly, continuing to stare at Gail. The Winchesters didn't like it, but they complied. This guy was nobody to mess with.

OK, definitely not human then, Gail thought, moving to approach the table where he sat.

"May I present Gail," Crowley said formally. Gail looked at him sharply. It had been a while since she'd been formally introduced to an otherworldly being without the prefix "the Angel". But she had to face it; she wasn't one any more, was she?

The man inclined his head to her as Crowley looked at Gail. "And may I introduce Death."

Gail's blood ran cold. Was he kidding with this? But she was looking at the expressions on the Winchesters' faces, and they weren't smiling. Now that she thought about it, it only made sense, in a way. Rowena was dead, wasn't she? Did they have to appeal to Death so he could bring her back to help them?

"I have you at a disadvantage," Death said to Gail, motioning for her to take a seat across from him. "I have seen you before, but you have not seen me."

A chill raced up Gail's spine at his comment. But she supposed that only made sense, too. After all, she had died twice now. But why had she not seen him when she had?

"I'm surprised I haven't seen you, then," she said to him, sitting down as he had instructed. "I have died, after all. Twice." Incredibly, she felt her mouth twitch, trying to smile. She guessed she should be used to things like this by now, but she was sitting in a diner talking to Death about having died. There had to be a joke in there somewhere. She was sure Chuck could appreciate the alliteration, if nothing else.

"Is there something you find amusing?" Death asked her coolly.

Her blood ran cold again. "No," she replied. Then, "Well, yes. This is just so strange. I mean, come on."

Crowley winced. He knew Gail's way of talking by now, but she'd better speak to Death with respect, or her search for a cure would be a moot ppint.

But a small smile was playing at the corners of Death's mouth now. "Your point is taken. Yes, you have died twice before. But you were extremely fortunate not to make my aquaintance the first time. Castiel had to cash in his chips with our Father to obtain permission for you to ascend directly." Realistically, Death would usually not have deigned to personally escort an ordinary human such as Gail had been, interesting powers notwithstanding. But she was an exception. Death had known of the pivotal part she would play within the Winchesters' world the instant that Gail was born, and he knew that she was even more special now. He could tell immediately that she was no longer a pure Angel, of course. Crowley had not divulged many details about her in their conversation prior to this meeting. He had told Death about Castiel's predicament though, and uncharacteristically for Crowley, he had just reported the facts without adding his usual snarky comments. Death had been astounded. How had Castiel fallen so far, so fast? The last time he had met up with the former Angel, Castiel had been God. Now, based on what Crowley had told him, Castiel was about two steps removed from rivalling the King of Hell himself. There was obviously some very dark magic at work here.

Gail's heart warmed at the thought of Castiel asking God for such a big favour on her behalf. This was confirmation for her that they were doing the right thing by pursuing the cure. That was the kind of man he really was, and the kind of man Gail wanted to see him be again.

"And the second time, you were an Angel already, albeit on a temporary vacation," Death continued dryly. "So you ascended directly, of course."

"Then when did you see me?" Gail asked him curiously.

"In Haiti," Death replied tersely.

Now Gail remembered. Cas had told her that Death was there that day, and that they'd had a conversation. But she had not been able to see him then. Why could she see him now?

"I can only appear to people who have already been dead, and then only if I wish for them to see me," Death told her. But she had not spoken aloud.

"Can you read my thoughts, too?" she asked Death, dismayed. First God, then Crowley, now Death? What was it about her?

"Yes," he replied. "I am the beginning of everything, and the end of everything."

Wow. She wasn't sure if that was existential, or just pretentious. But she supposed that if anybody could say that about themselves, it would be him.

Death smiled grimly. "I understand you seek a favour."

Gail looked at Crowley helplessly. What exactly was she expected to say here?

"We need your permission to pierce the veil of the Netherworld and speak with my mother," Crowley said smoothly.

Gail and the Winchesters exchanged glances. The Netherworld? What was that?

"The Netherworld is a place where elite entities go once they are dead," Death explained to them. "Rowena is there now, and I escorted Castiel there myself. Only to have you take him back, Crowley. You could have at least called," he rebuked Crowley. "Saved me the trip. Oh, and you took Metatron from me, as well. And now you're here, asking me for a favour." He leaned back in his chair. "And I still haven't received my offering."

Gail was alarmed. Did he require some kind of sacrifice first? If so, she would just pop home and pack her bags right now. She'd never be Demon enough for that.

But incredibly, Sam and Dean were smiling. "What do you say, Gail?" Sam said to her. "Do you want to come to the kitchen and see what we can put together for breakfast?"

She looked at him quizzically. Was he trying to get her out of the room? But then she remembered Crowley asking her if she could cook.

Crowley smiled at the confused expression on her face. "Death is what humans might call a 'foodie',' he told her.

"Oh." Really? How weird was that?

Sam stood and took Gail's hand, pulling her in the direction of the kitchen. "Come on, Gail. I'll see if there's a radio in there, if you'd like." He knew how she liked her music. He smiled faintly, remembering happier times in the bunker. He hoped they'd have them again. But right now, they had to make a meal for Death.

This was the tenth shelter Cas had been to, and he was getting very frustrated. He didn't have a picture of Xavier, of course, so he'd had to describe the former Angel to everyone he spoke to. But most of the men were unresponsive. Maybe they'd seen the guy, maybe they hadn't. Most of them asked him for money, and a few asked him to take them to the nearest liquor store. One even offered to please Cas if he would buy him a bottle. The old Castiel would have looked upon these men with compassion. Their lives had become unmanageable and intolerable, and they drank alcohol just to get them through another day of despair. But the new Cas was disgusted. They were dirty and they smelled bad, and he was growing tired of wallowing in the filth. The only thing that had kept him going thus far was the prospect of seeing Xavier like this. And then having a nice extended discussion with his former nemesis.

So he persevered, and at the next shelter he hit pay dirt. There was a long lineup of men outside the kitchen, waiting for it to open up for breakfast. They'd had their turkey dinner yesterday, served to them by all the local celebrities and politicians who generally showed up once or twice a year, seeking photo ops. The rest of the year, these men were forgotten, left to fend for themselves. But there was breakfast at least, and they could go out into the world to do whatever it was they did with food in their stomachs.

Xavier was two-thirds of the way down the line, and he was impatient and extremely hungry. Why didn't they just open up, already? Hopefully, they'd have lots of leftovers from Christmas. Maybe then he would get fed. A lot of times if you were this far back in the line, they ran out of food, and then you were pretty much out of luck. You could race around to the other shelters, but by the time you got there, they were in the same predicament, or they'd just reached capacity. He should have come yesterday; at least he would have been guaranteed to get a meal. No one was turned away on Christmas Day, not with all those cameras there. But he'd spent the day yesterday in an alleyway with a couple of bottles he'd successfully stolen. Xavier had known it was Christmas Day, of course, and his mood had been dark and depressed. He supposed it should mean nothing to him now; he was no longer an Angel, and God was no longer his Father. Castiel may have imposed this punishment on Xavier, but God had sanctioned it.

He and Alexander had been travelling companions for a while, and when they'd first gotten to Earth, life as a human had seemed so easy. Everywhere they'd looked, people were happy, healthy, and thriving. It didn't seem that hard to them. They had been elite Angels, and they were intelligent men. They could get jobs that made good money, and live well.

But they'd soon discovered it was not nearly that easy. They had no ID, and no way to explain where they'd been and what they'd been doing all those years. It seemed that every job required something called a "resume", listing one's job experiences, and of course, they had none. And the vessels they inhabited had the appearance of men in their 70s, though they were much, much older than that. Even the few places that were willing to overlook the usual requirements were not interested in hiring new employees of such an advanced age.

They had no jobs, no street smarts, and no knowledge of human ways. They had never cared to find out how humans got through life, as they'd thought humans insignificant. But now Xavier and Alexander were in their number, and they were lost. Then Alexander had discovered alcohol, and he had fallen head-first into the bottle and never came out. Then he had left the shelter he and Xavier had been staying in, and Xavier had not seen him again.

Xavier had resisted the lure of alcohol for as long as he could, but eventually, he too had succumbed. The turning point had been the day he had been accosted by that man in the alley.

Xavier had been digging through the dumpster, looking for anything he could find that was edible or for any empty cans or bottles that he could redeem for a bit of money. He had never dreamed how painful real hunger could be. It was ridiculous to expect people to go through life without the basic sustenance and shelter that should be everyone's due. He had heard that humans were imbued with the same qualities as God Himself, but so far all Xavier had noticed about humans was that they were self-centered hedonists with no compassion for others. The irony of the latter observation was completely lost on him, now that he was the one who was doing the suffering.

The stranger approached him as he was climbing out of the first bin. He'd come up with nothing, and Xavier had had to get a breath or two of fresh air before he moved on to the next one.

He looked at the man. "You look like you need some help, my friend," the stranger said to him.

"I'm very hungry," Xavier told him. "I'm looking for some food."

"Been there," the man said, almost cheerfully. "It's a tough old world, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Xavier replied, relieved that this man seemed to understand.

"I might be able to help you out," the stranger said, "if you're willing to help me out."

Xavier was puzzled. What could he possibly do for this man? He wasn't an Angel any more.

"Come here and we'll talk about it," the man said. Xavier approached him, and the man grabbed Xavier's arm and steered him begind the dumpster, saying, "It'll be more private here." He undid his pants and let them drop, and he grabbed Xavier's hand and put it on himself. "If you take care of me good, I'll give you some money for food."

Xavier was too stunned to speak, or even to move. Contrary to what everyone else in Heaven might think, he knew exactly what this man wanted. It was all too familiar.

The stranger was in an obvious state of excitement now, and he moved against Xavier's hand. "Why don't you get down on your knees?" he said to Xavier. "There'll be an extra few dollars in it for you if you do a good job."

"No," Xavier breathed. "No, I can't. Not again. Never again."

Then his paralysis broke, and he ran out of the alley. Xavier ran for blocks and blocks until he was out of breath, and then he slumped down to the sidewalk, panting and sweaty. At least, he told himself that it was sweat that was running down his cheeks.

When he'd composed himself a little, Xavier ventured into another alleyway. He was frightened now, jumping at every shadow, but his hunger and thirst drove him to it. And finally, he was rewarded. He found a half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the ground. There was no one nearby, Xavier had made sure of that. So he saw the opportunity and he took it. He fell to his knees and grabbed the bottle, taking a drink. The liquid burned down his throat and he coughed, but he kept it down. So he took another drink, and another, and soon the bottle was empty. He went to stand up and lost his balance, falling down on his rear end. That struck Xavier as funny for some reason, and he laughed. He was drunk! He'd never been drunk before. It was a really weird feeling. But suddenly, he wasn't all that hungry any more.

Xavier finally managed to crawl to the other side of the dumpster and he found another bonus: a rolled-up carpet. Just the thing to serve as a pillow. His head was spinning now, and he laughed again at the funny feeling. He would just lay down for a few minutes until the dizziness went away. And he would not think about food, the stranger in the alley, or his uncle. He would definitely not think about his uncle.

But of course, when he passed out, Xavier dreamed about his childhood and the weekend outings nwith his uncle.

Xavier's father was hard-working and was rarely home, and when he was, he was distant and preoccupied. His mother was devout and God-fearing, and she made sure that her son was being brought up in the good Christian way. Church at least three times a week, Bible lessons every day. She'd even given him an old-school, Bible-type name to set him on the right path. Xavier was an only child; it was bad enough that she had had to do what she'd done with his father to have him in the first place. After Xavier came along, his mother moved into the spare bedroom and began locking the door at night. His father hadn't seemed to mind, but maybe that was why he was away from home so much.

Xavier had grown up craving love and acceptance, but all he got was apathy and Bible verses. Then his mother's brother had moved in with them, and he had begun to spend time with the boy. He would take Xavier fishing sometimes, and listen to him as he talked about school, and the Bible. Xavier grew to love his uncle, and he loved spending time with him. Then his uncle started incorporating physical affection into their outings, and when he thought young Xavier was ready, he took his nephew away for an entire weekend and showed him the things that adults did in bed with each other. There was nothing wrong with it, his uncle told him. Everyone did it, or wanted to do it, and the people that condemned it had obviously never tried it.

But Xavier was confused. He was still a child, and his mother and the Bible had taught him it was a sin. Not so, said his uncle. It was all in the way you looked at it. How could anything that felt so good be a sin?

And Xavier had to admit it did feel pretty good, sometimes. He was not mature enough to understand the implications, but his uncle had trapped Xavier with his love and attention, and he had threatened to leave the house if Xavier would not continue to make him happy. So the young boy felt like he had no choice, even though he burned with shame every time his uncle touched him like that.

Then one night, his uncle came to Xavier's room at the house. Up until then, he had been smart enough to keep their activities away from the home, but the need had overwhelmed him that night and young Xavier was right down the hall. So he had let himself into Xavier's room and woken him up, cautioning him to be very, very quiet. And when Xavier had been reluctantly pleasuring his uncle with his mouth, Xavier's mother had walked into the room.

She'd inexplicably woken up in the middle of the night, and an urge had come upon her to share a particularly inspiring Bible passage she'd read before bed with her son. It made no sense that she should want to do this in the middle of the night, but Xavier's mother went with her instincts. There were plenty of things in the Bible that didn't make logical sense on the surface, but then had turned out right in the end. Look at Noah and the ark, for instance. So she grabbed the Bible from the nightstand, shrugged her robe on, and went to Xavier's room.

She froze at the door as she realized that what she was seeing was what she was actually seeing.

"What are you doing?" she screamed. She threw the Bible at her brother and it struck him in the head. He jumped up and closed his pants immediately, but of course it was too late.

"Get out of my house!" she yelled at him. "Now!"

Xavier's uncle hurried out of the room, and his mother came forward, picking her Bible up off the floor. She wheeled on Xavier. "What you were doing is a sin," she hissed at him. "That kind of pleasure is wrong, and anyone who does it is bound for Hell. I'm taking you to church tomorrow and you'll be re-baptized, and then we will never speak of this again."

"But Mother," Xavier protested, even though deep down he knew she was quite right, "Uncle says people do it all the time. He told me you and Father did it to have me."

His mother wound up and smacked Xavier across the face with the Bible, hard. "You will not speak to me like that," she said quietly.

Xavier was crying now, but in a way, he guessed he had deserved that. He had let his uncle lead him into sin, and he was deeply ashamed. Never again.

"Never again," Xavier murmured, coming out of the dream. He opened his eyes and saw that it was light out. Being human was torture, but he had to admit that sleep was a wonderful escape. Though he could have done without the reminder of his dark childhood secret. But it wasn't as if Xavier had ever really forgotten; he had simply repressed it for all those centuries. If he didn't acknowledge that it had happened, it would be as if it never did.

He had died young, of a simple case of food poisoning. There was no medical technology back then, and by the time his parents had realized there was something seriously wrong with their son, it was already too late. He died in his bed, his mother weeping over his body and reading passages from the same Bible she'd hit him with in that same room several years prior. She prayed to God to keep his soul, but she never mentioned what had happened here in her prayers. And, somewhat tellingly, she had never asked God to save her son.

But Xavier had ascended because, after all, he had done nothing wrong. He served God faithfully for centuries after that, and the experience of his childhood had shaped the type of Angel he became. Eventually, Xavier graduated to Upper Echelon status, and he had been happy to meet and serve with other like-minded Angels on the board.

But Castiel had always been a thorn in Xavier's side. He had no regard for the rules, and he was always off doing his own thing. Their Father indulged Castiel, seemingly letting him do whatever he wanted. And he had the same exalted status as the others on the board; in fact, Casstiel was the Senior member, as he had been around since Creation. But he couldn't, or wouldn't, act properly. Then came the Angel wars, then God left Heaven for a while, then came the first of the tribunals. Xavier was firmly established in Heaven as an elder statesman by then, and he took up the mantle of the righteous, judging other Angels for both their real and their perceived sins, using his own standards. Gail had been quite right when she'd asked by whose standards what they had done in Las Vegas were being judged. The answer was: by Xavier's, of course. Both what his uncle had done to him and his mother's teachings had warped him so much that Xavier had come to believe that any sign of affection was wrong, because it could lead to sin and perversion. Then along had come Castiel, holding hands with Gail and kissing her in public. They'd tried to say that what they had done in that hotel room in Las Vegas was acceptable, but Xavier knew that it was not. When Xavier had finally been given the opportunity to put Castiel on trial for his multitude of sins and offenses against Heaven, he had wanted Gail up on that cross too, as an example to the Angels he knew were looking at Castiel and Gail as a positive example.

But in the end, Xavier had lost, and Castiel had exacted his punishment. He should have just sent Xavier to Hell in the first place; it couldn't be much worse than this. Constant hunger, bone-chilling cold, being either vilified or ignored by your fellow man. Trying to scrape by from one day to the next. No goals, and nothing to look forward to.

So once Xavier had had that first blessed experience with alcohol, he began to focus on what he could do to obtain more. He had continued to root around in dumpsters and garbage cans for any bottles he could redeem, not so much looking for food now as for money, so that he could buy liquor. If he got there early enough, he could get breakfast at the shelter and then spend the remainder of the day scrounging and begging on the streets.

He was in line for breakfast the day after Christmas when Castiel saw him. Xavier had his head down, and he was dozing lightly as he waited. Cas nearly walked past him, but even though Xavier looked different now, there was something about his former adversary's face that had made him stop.

Cas poked the man on the arm to get him to look up. Once he saw the eyes, he'd know for sure.

Xavier started awake, and he looked at Cas, his eyes widening. "Castiel?" he said hoarsely. No, it couldn't be.

"Xavier," Cas said, smiling. He recognized those eyes, though it was strange not to see the contempt in them that Cas had grown so used to.

"What are you doing here?" Xavier asked, astonished at both Castiel's presence here and at seeing his odd-looking purple eyes. Xavier had seen a lot of shades of blue over the centuries, but he had never seen them purple before.

"Why, I'm here to see you, Xavier," Cas said pleasantly, taking Xavier's arm. "Let's go somewhere and talk."

Xavier looked at him. What could Castiel possibly want to talk to him about? They hated each other. Then his heart leaped. Was Castiel here to take him back to Heaven? Maybe Bobby had decided that Xavier had learned his lesson, and he was going to be shown mercy.

So he let his former Brother lead him away from the shelter, looking forward to their conversation now. If Xavier were to be given a second chance at salvation, he would gladly suffer through a chat with Castiel to get it.

Death was eating the breakfast that Sam and Gail had prepared, and he was taking his time. Crowley knew better than to rush him, but the King of Hell was getting agitated. Most of his meetings with Death over the centuries had been brief, both parties stating that they had too much to do to waste time on idle chit-chat. But they'd both been lying, of course. They were both mainly figureheads, with minions under them who did the real work. Crowley had Demons, Death had Reapers. They could have taken all day if they'd wanted to. But even though Crowley was forced to respect Death, he didn't much like him. They'd known each other since Creation, but Death had never changed, and he had never evolved. Except for his weird predeliction for food, something Crowley suspected their Father had sprinkled in just to keep things interesting, Death had no discernible personality and no sense of humour. Hard to spend a lot of time with a guy like that.

Death didn't have much time for the likes of Crowley, either. There was no room for emotion in their sort of dealinga, and Death didn't see the point in humour; it just wasted time. But he did enjoy his food, and to him, savouring it was not a waste of time; it was a communion, of sorts. Out of all of the pleasures that his Father had created, it was by far his favourite.

The breakfast they had made for him was simple fare, but it was good, and he'd been enjoying it. But Death could sense that Crowley was getting agitated, and he supposed he'd better get to it. Besides, they'd made a big plate, and he was getting full.

Death scooped a piece of egg onto his fork and extended it across the table to Gail. "Here, have a taste," he said to her.

She looked at him warily. They had all just been sitting here quietly, watching him eat. Even Dean had remained still, though she could see that he was just about ready to blow. And a couple of times she had looked up at Crowley, appealing with her eyes, but he had given her an almost imperceptible shake of his head. One didn't disturb Death when he was enjoying a meal.

Sam stirred in his chair. He and Gail had made the breakfast in silence for the most part. After a couple of attempts at conversation, Sam had given up when Gail had said, "Let's just get this done, Sam." She was tense, wondering what Cas was doing and if they were going to be done here in time for her to return home before he did. Making breakfast seemed like such a waste of time, and it was so weird. She too was thinking about all the times she and Sam had made meals together in the bunker, and she couldn't help but compare this with those. She caught Sam staring at her, trying to think of a subject to bring up for conversation. They'd never had any trouble talking under these circumstances before, about any number of subjects. But she could tell he regarded her differently now. Gail was aware that Sam had had a bit of a crush on her when they'd first met, and if she had not met Castiel, she might very well have felt the same way. They were equally matched in both intellect and temperament, and she knew he had a good heart. But she couldn't help the way she felt. As soon as she'd seen Castiel and felt his gaze on her, she'd been a goner. And she still loved Cas now, even though she hated what Metatron's evil cocktail had done to him. It would be so easy to just pack up her things and return to the bunker and to the safety and security of Sam and Dean. But she had some Demon in her too now, and that part of her kept resisting. She felt as if the brothers were judging her for staying in the house with Cas. She could understand their bewilderment; Cas had scared her and brutalized her, and as she moved around the kitchen, Gail could feel the pain from the bruises and abrasions she'd received last night. She wondered herself sometimes why she stayed there, as well. Was it love? Loyalty? Obligation? But if she spent too much time analyzing her motivations and her emotions, she might go nuts. She was in the process of making breakfast for Death, brought to the meeting by the King of Hell, trying to speak to a dead witch about a spell an evil Angel had cast on her now-Demon boyfriend. Wasn't that enough?

And now, Death was trying to spoon-feed her.

"Don't, Gail," Sam said. Death gave him a baleful stare and he fell silent.

What the hell, Gail thought. It was certainly no weirder than a lot of other things she'd done lately. She leaned forward and opened her mouth, letting Death feed her. She chewed and swallowed the bit of egg, hoping she hadn't just completed some strange sort of ritual.

"It's nothing like that," Death told her. Right. He could read her thoughts. "I just wanted to share."

Gail looked at him curiously. It didn't seem like he was joking.

"Ask your favour, Gail," Death said to her.

Crowley frowned briefly. He'd already stated the reason they were here before this ridiculous meal break. But Death was focusing on Gail now.

"Would you please allow us to speak with Rowena?" Gail asked Death politely.

"Yes, I will allow it," Death told her. "But I cannot guarantee she will have any answers for you, nor can I guarantee her cooperation."

Gail gave a half-shrug. She figured as much. Why should anything in her life be easy? "Thank you," she said.

She started to rise from the table. That was apparently all they'd come here for, his permission; and now that she'd obtained that, she was anxious to leave. She bumped her hip on the corner of the table and a shock of pain went through her. That was the hip Cas had dug his fingers into last night, and she hadn't realized how bad the bruise was until she'd hit it on something sharp. She hissed in pain.

Crowley raised an eyebrow to her, and she tried to shut her mind down. The last thing she needed was him smirking at her about how she'd received the injury, and what she and Cas had been doing at the time. She had to face it; he probably had a pretty good idea, anyway.

But it was Death who spoke. "Just a moment," he said.

She turned around to look at him. Here it came. This was always the point in the movies where the bad guy stopped you from leaving, and it was usually bad news.

Death smiled thinly, reading her thought. "I've never had much inclination to watch movies," he told her.

"You should," Gail said. "Think of all the snacks you could have."

Then Death did something Crowley had never seen before: he laughed. Crowley smiled, too. There was just something about her. Crowley himself had laughed more times in the past week's conversations with Gail than he'd laughed in the centuries before that. Maybe that was why he felt such affection towards her now, and why he was going to all this effort to help her. It was certainly not out of any great love for his Brother, that was for sure.

"Contrary to how everyone feels about me, I am not 'the bad guy'," Death said to Gail, including Dean and Sam in his glance. "My role is essential."

Gail considered that; she supposed he had a point, but who the hell wanted to die? Of course, death in their world meant many different things, though, didn't it?

"In some cases, death can be the greatest mercy," Death said to her. "If a cure cannot be found, you will have to let Castiel go."

Gail's heart sank. She knew that, of course, but it was hard to hear that spoken aloud, especially coming from Death himself. She refused to believe that a cure wasn't possible. There had to be a way.

"I admire your optimism, misguided as it may be," he said to her, frowning. He stood from the table, tossing his napkin on the plate. "I have had a bit of a checkered past with Castiel, but if you are all here on his behalf, perhaps he is worth saving." He looked at Crowley, and his expression turned sardonic. "Maybe even you are, Brother."

Crowley frowned slightly, but said nothing. He was just waiting for this meeting to be over now.

"Good luck, my Dear," Death said to Gail. Then he nodded to Sam and Dean, and then he was gone.

Gail looked at the brothers. "Wow," she said. She didn't even know what to say about that whole experience.

Dean let out a breath. He'd been biting the insides of his cheeks practically the whole time to keep himself from smart-mouthing Death. He and Sam had both had run-ins with him before, but it seemed like Gail had charmed him. Dean had never even seen Death smile before, let alone laugh out loud. And he had been cooperative, at least as far as giving his permission for them to contact Rowena. Before Gail had arrived at the bunker, Crowley had told him and Sam that they needed Death's acquiesence in order to contact anyone that he assigned to the Netherworld. Apparently, Death was able to trump God when it came to the creme de la creme. So Dean had made himself keep his mouth shut, even though it had nearly killed him to do so. Once again, Cas was gonna owe him, big time. Normal Cas, that was. The Cas that existed now was a stranger to Dean, and he was glad he hadn't seen that guy for a while. Dean still hadn't completely ruled out kicking his ass for everything he had done to Gail, either.

But Crowley had lied, of course. He could have brought his mother back, albeit temporarily, as he and Metatron had done with Raphael. Crowley had an Original at his disposal now in Gail, and together they would probably have been able to bring Rowena back for long enough to get the cure from her, if she would cooperate. But he wanted nothing to do with his mother, even temporarily. He was well shot of her, and Gail and the Winchesters could talk to her if they so chose, but Crowley would stay away. He did know another way, however, and if Sam didn't suggest it first, Crowley would drop some broad hints until Moose figured it out. He was a smart boy.

They left the diner, bringing the Winchesters back to the bunker and advising they'd be in touch. Once Sam and Dean had gone inside, Gail and Crowley stood facing each other.

"Thank you for the meeting," Gail said to him. "It was certainly...interesting."

"Are you all right?" he asked her, unexpectedly.

Gail was startled. How weird that he had asked her that, and not Sam or Dean. "Yeah, I'm OK," she answered reflexively.

He lifted an eyebrow, and she amended, "Well, you know. Why do you ask?"

"The hip," he answered shortly.

Crap. She'd known he would notice that. She should be grateful he wasn't making lewd comments about it, she supposed. She sighed. "It's nothing I can't handle," she replied, somewhat evasively.

But he was in her head now, and he had seen what had happened last night, including the incident with the blade. Not every Demon had that particular urge; Metatron must have thrown a little Vampire into the cocktail too, Crowley surmised. He wasn't all that shocked by it, though; he was the King of Hell, after all, and he had seen far worse. But he wanted to make sure she was all right, although he continued to wonder why he should care.

"Make sure he doesn't get the upper hand," Crowley advised her. "If he does, he'll never let go. And he'll keep on hurting you."

Gail laughed shortly. "I read a quote once: 'You can always tell how much you love someone by how much they can hurt you'."

He regarded her evenly, but she said no more. "I'll be in touch," he told her. Then he snapped his fingers and he was gone.

She stood there for a moment, looking at the entrance to the bunker and then looking at the empty spot where Crowley had just stood a moment ago. Like Sam had thought a short while ago, Gail wondered which team she was really on these days. Not so long ago, the answer had seemed very clear.

But there was no time for self-analysis now, and this certainly wasn't the place for it. She had to get home.

Chapter 2 - A Power Greater Than Ourselves

When Cas was leading Xavier away from the shelter, he wondered for a moment where he should take him. It had to be somewhere private, obviously. He thought for an instant about bringing Xavier to the house. It would certainly be private, due to all the protections on the place. But even though her eyes went darker once in a while and she seemed to be revelling in every variation of what they did together now, Cas didn't think Gail was quite ready for something like that. It was too bad, really. This was the one aspect of his life that he had to keep separate from her, and Cas wished they could share it together. Gail had good reason to hate Xavier as well, for everything he had subjected her to at the tribunal and for the fact that he'd tried to make the board vote to execute her, too. How Cas would love to see her take the blade and stick Xavier with it. An Angel blade would not kill Xavier now unless it hit a major organ or the wound caused him to bleed out, but Cas could instruct her on the way to cause maximum pain without killing someone. He'd had lots of practice. And if she would participate in that sort of activity with him, Cas's life would be complete. He felt excited about the possibility of the two of them participating in both of his favourite activities together. He would wash the blood off her himself, and then he would lick her from head to toe. She had no idea how exciting torture and bloodletting could be. But even though the spilling of others' blood and watching their suffering made him feel alive now, Cas only seemed to crave the taste of her blood. Metatron had indeed mixed a little vampirism into the potion, possibly even unknowingly, but as the drink had been mainly a love potion, Cas only wanted to taste the blood of the woman he loved. But Gail was resistant. Nor would she allow him to dose her again.

So, until he figured out a way to get her to accept one, or both, Cas thought he'd better find another place for his session with Xavier. But where?

Then he had it. He took Xavier's arm and winked them to the remote cabin just outside Sioux Falls where he and Dean had tortured the Demon when they'd been trying to figure out the brains behind the Demon possessions and murders that had been taking place in Jody's town.

Cas tied Xavier to a chair in the middle of the kitchen. He couldn't use the living room; it had a Devil's Trap painted on the floor. But this would do for his purposes.

He pulled up a chair across from Xavier and straddled it, smiling at his former nemesis. "It looks like you haven't been enjoying your experience as a human," Cas said casually.

Xavier stared at him, wide-eyed. Why had Castiel brought him to this place, and why had he tied him up? And why were his eyes so strange?

"No, I have not," Xavier replied. "Although I have to admit I see now how difficult it is to be one. So if that was the lesson, Castiel, I can assure you I have taken it."

Cas nodded, reaching into his jacket pocket and taking out his blade. But he made no advance on Xavier, not yet. The anticipation was too sweet.

"Have you, Xavier?" Cas asked, his tone still casual. "Have you, really?"

"Yes, I have," Xavier insisted. Was this interrogation a test? Had Heaven sent Castiel on a mission to find out if Xavier was sorry for what he'd done? And was Xavier sorry for what he'd done, or was he just tired of being hungry and cold all the time?

"All right, then," Cas said, turning the blade over in his hands, playing with it. "Then how do you feel about me? And about Gail?"

Xavier frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Cas said, his tone developing a bit of an edge now, "how do you feel about Gail and I having had sex in Las Vegas?"

Xavier was sickened by the question. "How should I feel? You know you sinned, Castiel. Are you suggesting I should just overlook that? All right, I suppose I can try. It's in the past, you were humans, and as long as you are both behaving properly now - "

Cas smiled, cutting him off. "Oh, but we're not," he said, rising from his chair and slowly walking over to Xavier. "In fact, let me tell you what we did last night." He leaned down and spoke the details into Xavier's ear, taking care to be as crude and as graphic as possible. Then he stood back to watch Xavier's reaction.

Xavier paled, and his heart hammered inside his chest. He couldn't believe it. They were Angels; how could they have done something like that? His mind flashed back to his uncle. When he had done that to Xavier, it had hurt a great deal, and Xavier hadn't liked it at all. "How could you - how could she possibly have enjoyed that?" Xavier said, astonished. "Only the worst kind of slut would engage in an activity like that."

That was exactly the wrong thing to say to Cas, of course. If Castiel had needed a reason, he couldn't have been provided with a better one. He would up and punched Xavier full in the face, then took his blade and stabbed Xavier once in each hand. "You will not talk about my wife that way," he said quietly.

Xavier spat blood out of his mouth. He was scared now, and in a lot of pain, but he couldn't let that stand. "Wife?" he scoffed. "Are you trying to tell me that what the two of you are doing is acceptable? Surely your God Bobby is not in favour of this filth?"

"The dirtier it is, the better it is, sometimes," Cas said absently. He was now in an obvious state of excitement, picturing what he and Gail were going to do together when he got home. He looked at his blade, then stabbed Xavier in both legs with it. How Cas wished Gail was here right now, watching him exact revenge on their enemy. He was sure she would be excited too, watching his mastery over Xavier. He could take her into the cabin's bedroom and remind her of his mastery in that other area, and when she cried out his name, Xavier would hear her and know that he was the one who was wrong, not them.

Xavier screamed in pain, and he looked up at Castiel in horror. "What are you? You're not an Angel," he panted.

"Correct," Castiel said happily. "You and the rest of them set such a bad example I decided to aspire to something better."

"Better?" Xavier exclaimed. He knew he was probably inviting further abuse, but he couldn't help himself. He'd never thought much of Castiel, but Xavier knew there was something terribly wrong with him now. "You call this better? Look at yourself!"

Castiel raised the blade again and Xavier cringed, but this time, Cas did not strike. "What about me?" Cas said, smiling. "What about you? You're a pathetic wretch, an alcoholic, and a bum. I hold all the power here. So you tell me who is the better in this situation."

"That would still be me," Xavier retorted. "I may be what you say, but I do not harm others. The only harm that has taken place is the harm that has been done to me. First, my uncle; now you." Tears were running down his face now. "I only wanted love, and instead, I only received pain. I was sinned against, but I did not sin. My mother never understood that."

Cas paused. What? What was Xavier ranting about? Then he realized he didn't care. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, didn't they? Cas himself had a whole house full of closets full of them. He had a blade in his hand that he needed to use, and a girlfriend at home with his painful marks all over her body. And all he could think about was going home and doing both. Everyone had their issues.

Xavier now noticed Cas's state of excitement and he whimpered, almost as Gail would have done. What kind of a monster was Castiel now? Surely he wasn't capable of doing the same things to Xavier as his uncle had done?

But Cas had no interest in that sort of thing, and he was preoccupied now. The cabin was remote, and Xavier was tied up, and he was human. He could keep.

"Don't go anywhere; I'll be right back," Cas smiled at Xavier. Then he popped out.

Gail had just returned home, and she had just gone upstairs to put away the clean clothes when Cas appeared in the bedroom. He was bloody, and his eyes were bright purple and shining. He had the blade in his hand, but dropped it on the floor as he rushed to her.

She dropped the shirt she'd been putting on the hanger as he grabbed her and kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth. "Take off your pants," he breathed.

Gail's heart was beating fast, and she was shaking. What if he'd come home and she hadn't been here? How would she have explained? But it didn't seem like he was angry, only extremely excited, so she decided to comply.

She undid her pants and stepped out of them as Cas undid his, and he let them drop to his feet. He lifted her onto him and pushed into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he held her with one arm, hitting the palm of his other hand on the closet door behind her. She was kissing and licking his ear, saying his name. He'd taken her by surprise, but he'd thought his enthuasiasm would make up for it. He had her against the closet door and he was driving her into it. He buried his face in her neck, and he swore as he pulled her even closer to him. "Say you love me," he demanded.

"I love you, Cas," she gasped. If he pushed into her any harder, she wouldn't be able to breathe at all. He'd better finish soon, or she would be limping tomorrow. So she licked his ear again and said, "You can do anything you want to me."

And that did it. He swore again, saying her name, saying how much he loved her, and then he was still. After he caught his breath, he kissed her on the mouth, then gently lifted her from him and put her back down on her feet.

He knew he hadn't satisfied her, though. She had made him feel amazing, but he had been too quick. He should get back, but he couldn't leave her like that. It wasn't fair.

So he picked her up and threw her down on the bed, spreading her legs and using his tongue. Gail was sore from what had just happened, but what he was doing now was starting to make up for it. She started to moan, and Cas smiled. He was leaving bloody handprints all over her, but she could have another shower. She was making those sounds now, holding his head, but he took her hands and pinned them onto the bed, then stopped what he was doing, looking at her. "Do you want me to continue?" he asked her, still smiling.

"Yes, please," she whimpered. "Please, Cas."

He resumed, and she was moaning again, but again he stopped. "Do you really love me?" he said.

"Yes, of course I do, Cas," she replied. Why did he keep stopping? He was making her crazy. What did he want from her?

He resumed again, and when she was just about ready, he stopped and said, "Did you mean it when you said I could do anything I want to you?"

OK. She got it now. She had just said that in the heat of passion, mainly because she knew it would excite him. But he was looking to extract a promise now. It was her own fault, really. But she needed him to continue, and now that she had Death's permission to talk to Rowena, the cure was on the horizon, Gail was sure of it. She and Cas would just have to negotiate about what was acceptable and what wasn't.

Her eyes darkened, and Cas smiled. He gave her another couple of long, slow licks, and she couldn't stand it any more. "Yes, Cas, I meant it," she told him. "Now please, don't stop any more!"

He buried his face in her then, grabbing her hips to bring her closer to him. Then she was crying out. It was so good; he was so good. She loved him, and she needed him. As long as he kept doing this, she supposed it was OK for him to do other things to her from time to time, as long as he didn't hurt her too much. She'd tell him that. But right now she was telling him how good it was, and she meant it.

He was holding her, and she was kissing him. Her tongue was dancing with his, and she was getting him excited again. Cas thought of his blade on the floor, but it had Xavier's blood on it, and he didn't want that tainting her. Besides, he had a job to finish. The thought of that also excited him, and he grabbed her hand and put it on him.

"I have to go in a minute," he told her. She was stroking him, playing with him, and he felt so close to her that he suddenly wanted to share what he had been doing with her. He wanted them to be intimate in every way, and he wanted her to love and accept every aspect of him.

"I have Xavier tied up in a remote place," he said softly, moving against her hand. "We were having a very enjoyable visit when I came here to see you. I need to conclude that visit, and then I'll come back." Her hand was gripping him tighter, and his breath was starting to become ragged. He was glad she was doing this now; it would take the edge off his excitement so he could conclude his business and then come back. There was still so much he wanted to do here.

Gail understood what was going on. He had popped in with bloody clothes and a bloody blade, wild with excitement. She didn't need to be a genius to do the math. He'd been torturing Xavier, and he'd worked himself into such a frenzy that he'd had to pop home and work some of it out on her.

"Do you love me?" she asked him suddenly. She actually kind of wondered at this point. Or was she merely some kind of receptacle to him now?

Cas was surprised. He was still moving against her hand, and now he leaned forward and kissed her. "Of course I do," he said softly. He sped up the motion of his body against her hand. He was always the one seeking reassurances, not her. How could she even ask him that? How could he not love her? She was perfect, and she was perfect for him.

"I love you, Gail," he moaned. She gripped him tighter, and he was ready, so he opened her mouth with his tongue and kissed her, and now it was him who was whimpering, because he loved her so much. A few moments ago, Cas had had the upper hand, but now it was Gail. It had always been Gail who had the real power in their relationship, even now. Maybe especially now. It had been said that there were two kinds of power: one based on fear, and the other based on love. He was wielding power over her by using sex and fear and brutality, but her kind of power was going to be more effective in the long run, because it came from love. After all, love was giving someone the power to destroy you, but trusting them not to. Every time Gail came into this bed with Cas, she put herself in the most vulnerable of situations. But no matter how bad Cas had become, she did trust him not to destroy her. She had to; otherwise, what was she even doing here with him? But, Cas was giving her the same power. If she ever left this bed and this house and stayed away, or if she ever turned to him and said she didn't love him, it would destroy him.

It was all about power now. Some had it, and some didn't. Some wanted it so much they didn't care who they hurt to get it. Others didn't want it at all. Still others had powers they weren't even aware of.

The board had had the power, and had given themselves the authority, to act as judges, jury, and executioners at Cas's tribunal. Daniel and Gregory had ultimately chosen to turn their backs on this power, and were now happily serving Bobby in Heaven. Ignatius had regretted his use of the power and had been given an eleventh-hour reprieve. As a result, he had vowed his allegiance to Bobby, and to his victim Castiel. He'd finally located his daughter Felicia, and was currently watching her house, trying to pluck up the courage to knock on the door. Lanister and Alexander were now powerless and being tortured daily in Hell, still not understanding why.

And Xavier was slowly loosening the bonds that held him tied to the chair.

Cas dressed again and put his blade back in his pocket. Gail glanced at it with trepidation. Had she really told Cas he could do anything he wanted to her, not once, but twice? She blamed Crowley for this. Without the dose of his blood in her, she wouldn't be so crazy all the time. Then again, without that dose, she would likely have acquiesced a lot sooner. For all her bravado, as soon as Cas got her in that bed, she became a different person. And while she'd been getting quite a bit of enjoyment out of their activities there, a tiny part of her was afraid that once he got the blade out, he wouldn't be able to stop.

He kissed her tenderly now. "I'll be back in a little while. Don't go anywhere," he said lightly.

She smiled. "Where would I go?"

Cas squeezed her. Good girl. He needed her to be home when he got back, not only to help him work off his excitement, but because he could now see his marks all over her body again, and he could tell that she was in pain by the way she moved. The last time she'd been like that, he had taken his blade to her and then she had left him. What was to prevent her from doing it again? Maybe she was just waiting for him to leave. Had she been in the act of packing when he'd surprised her at the closet?

He couldn't take that chance. "Get dressed," he instructed her. "You're coming with me."

Dammit. She had been hoping to contact Crowley and find out where they went from here. Now that they had Death's permission to talk to Rowena, how exactly were they going to go about it?

Gail tried to beg off, telling him he had tired her out, and she wanted to take a shower and rest up for when he returned. Trying to be at her teasing best. But Cas wasn't buying it. His insecurities were in full bloom now. She would come with him to the cabin, and she would help him torture and kill Xavier. Then they would share that bond too, and he could further tie her to him. Once he had shared all of himself with her, she would share all of herself with him. And if she still wouldn't let him do it, there was always the needle. She wasn't going anywhere.

So Gail sighed, and she got dressed, not seeing any viable alternative.

But when they popped into the cabin, Xavier was gone.

Cas stood for a moment, stunned. Xavier was a human, and he'd been badly injured. How had he managed to escape? Did he have help?

Then he lost it. He swept through the cabin, searching all the rooms. No Xavier. He came back to the kitchen, swearing at the top of his lungs, and upended the kitchen table. Then he grabbed the chairs he and Xavier had been seated in and threw them against the wall. He stood, breathing heavily, then looked at Gail.

"You kept me there," he said to her.

She had been standing in the corner of the kitchen, watching his rampage, feeling secretly glad that Xavier had gotten away. But not out of any sense of compassion or charity; mainly because she'd thought that Cas might go easier on her if he hadn't had the opportunity for more torture. But now she realized that this could be far worse. He had been denied the outlet he obviously so badly needed, and now she was the only one here.

Cas withdrew his blade and advanced on her. "You delayed me at the house, and now he's escaped," he said quietly.

Gail had never been so scared of him. His eyes were black, his face almost unrecognizable. But she stood her ground. It was time to find out if everything she'd been going through was even worth it.

"Are you going to hurt me, Cas?" she asked, as calmly as she could.

He looked at her, then looked at the blade in his hand. No, he wasn't going to hurt her, he was just angry. He didn't know why he'd said that; he'd stayed longer at the house because he'd wanted to. Because she was loving him.

Cas stashed the blade in his pocket. "Come here," he said to her, opening his arms.

Gail let him embrace her. She needed the comfort; she was shaking now. Oh, God. Thank God. If he had made a move to hurt her, she'd been prepared to leave him, maybe even abandon the search for the cure if it continued to be so onerous. She'd volunteered to have Crowley inject her with his own blood, gone to Lucifer's cage to meet with Metatron, had to subject herself to Lucifer's torment, and had had a breakfast communion with Death. And now she was expected to go begging to Rowena. If Cas had attacked her instead of hugging her, she might have been tempted to just forget the whole thing.

But he was hugging her now, and he took her face in his hands and said, "I will never hurt you. That would be like hurting myself." He kissed her gently, smiling.

Damn him, Gail thought. Just when she thought she was out, he pulled her back in again. She smiled sadly. Dean would probably have appreciated that reference; she could bet that he liked those movies. She remembered another quote she'd heard before: "At any given moment, you have the power to say: this is not how the story is going to end." And this was damn well NOT how her and Cas's story was going to end. She may not be a full Angel any more, but Cas was no Demon, and what had been done to him was criminal. Obviously he still had some good in him somewhere if he could be like this with her sometimes. There was no way she could abandon him, and there was no way she was going to give up on him now.

But Cas was still angry, and he needed someone to take it out on. He released Gail and strode to the middle of the room. "Crowley!" he yelled.

A moment later, Crowley appeared. He looked past Castiel to Gail, who gave him a small shrug.

"You bellowed?" Crowley frowned at his Brother. Did Castiel think he was in charge here? The only reason Crowley had shown up at all was because he could also hear Gail's voice in his head, and he had felt her fear of a moment ago. "What do you want, Castiel?"

"I had Xavier here, and now he's gone," Cas said to him.

Crowley didn't know whether to be amused or enraged. He settled on a combination of both. "So, you had him, and now you've lost him. What do you want me to do about it?"

Cas honestly didn't know; he just knew that he was frustrated beyond measure.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "How did you manage to let him get away?" He could see the blood on the kitchen floor, and the trail leading out of the room. It would seem that the more violent Castiel got, the stupider he was becoming. Maybe he had just worked himself up into such a froth that he hadn't noticed it. Of course, his Brother had also had other things occupying his mind, Crowley thought, looking slyly at Gail. He knew exactly what had been going on between those two this morning. He could read her like a book now. Once she had accepted his blood, she had accepted their connection.

And there was something else. When Cas had scared Gail a moment ago, her first thought had not been of Sam, Dean, or Bobby, it had been of Crowley. He was more of an ally now to her than the Winchesters, or even God. At least, that was how she felt these days. And she didn't want their friends to be around Cas the way he was right now, anyway. The worse he got, the more Gail felt he would be a danger to the brothers. Look at the way he had come at Dean a while back at the bunker, and he had roughed both brothers up when he had kidnapped them just to convince her to return to the house. Just because she could still get Cas to stand down for her, didn't mean he would do so when it came to their friends. But Crowley was the King of Hell, and he was a very powerful being in his own right. If anyone could or would give Castiel a real contest, it would be him.

Castiel was glaring at Crowley, who was smirking. The King was looking down at the blood trail on the floor. "He couldn't have gotten very far," Crowley said conversationally. "If you hadn't been having your little temper tantrum, you might have noticed he's left you a clue."

Cas was looking murderous now, but he was mentally kicking himself. Of course. Xavier was a human now, and he was seriously wounded. If Cas were to follow the blood trail outside, he could still get Xavier back.

He looked at Gail, then at Crowley. "Go ahead, we'll wait here," Crowley said with amusement. But Cas didn't want Gail alone in this house with his Brother. He wasn't as stupid as Crowley seemed to think he was, and he wasn't oblivious. Cas had noticed Crowley looking at Gail on many separate occasions, and he hadn't forgotten the day his Brother had put his hands all over Gail. Yes, he had been healing her, and yes, Cas had allowed it, but still...Cas felt that Crowley had taken a little too long, and enjoyed it a little too much. That was why Cas had not brought up the subject any more, although Gail could surely use his Brother's healing touch again. The only one who was going to be touching Gail was Cas, and he was growing tired of seeing Crowley look longingly at Gail. Let him lie with one of his Demon whores if he needed to. He had tried to make Gail his a year ago, and he had failed. She loved Cas; she had only ever loved Cas, not Crowley, and not Sam. They would just have to get over it.

Cas grabbed Gail's hand, glaring at Crowley. "You're coming with me," he said to her. He pulled her along with him, following the trail of blood outside.

"I'll go this way and you go that way," Cas directed her. "Call out if you find him."

Gail picked her way through the bush, looking left and right on the ground. Based on the amount of blood she'd seen, Xavier had likely crawled out of the cabin's front door and was trying to make his way through the forest, but he couldn't have gotten too far. Hopefully they would find him quickly, and then they could just get this done and over with. She hated Xavier too, but she didn't have much stomach for torture, especially torture just for torture's sake. What would it really accomplish? Would it erase the tribunal? Wipe out Cas's execution? If only. If it would, she'd be all for it. It was the execution that had led to the predicament they were in now. If Castiel had never been put to death, Crowley would never have had to revive him, and Cas wouldn't have had the Demon essence inside him that Metatron's cocktail had latched onto. Everything that was happening now was a direct result of the tribunal.

Now she started to do the slow burn. Maybe Cas had the right idea, after all. This was all Xavier's fault. In his hunger for the power of the High Office, Xavier had gone after Castiel, sacrificing him on the altar of that power. Didn't Xavier deserve to suffer, as Gail was suffering now? Maybe she should inflict a few bruises and abrasions on his body, let him know how it felt to walk around in pain all day, every day.

Then she saw Xavier. He was sitting on the ground, propped up against a tree. He was smeared with blood and sweating profusely from the effort that freeing himself from his bonds and crawling out here had taken.

Xavier looked up at her and breathed, "Please. Help me."

Gail tilted her head, regarding him coolly. He looked like hell, but he was still the guy who had persecuted Cas and asked her all those pointed and ambarrassing questions on the stand. Who had called her a whore. He had to be kidding. Why would she want to help him?

"Castiel is a monster," Xavier said to her. "He should have remained dead."

"Really?" she said to him. "Well, from where I stand, you're the monster, Xavier. You can take the credit for making him what he is today."

Xavier was puzzled by that. He would have no idea what she was talking about, of course. But he didn't really care; he just wanted to get away from this place and get some medical attention before he bled out. Despite his wretched existence, Xavier wanted to live. He still felt that he could turn his life around. He'd been doing a lot of thinking while he'd been out here, and Xavier had now convinced himself that his Father had sent both that man and Castiel to him as a test. He hadn't been living his human life in the right way. Maybe what his uncle had done to him had been done for a reason. If Xavier got out of this alive, he was going to spend the rest of his existence warning people about the consequences of lust and of sin, and what the things they did in the bedroom could lead to.

And he would start right now. This woman standing before him was a prime example. If she had willingly engaged in the sort of activity that Castiel had described to him earlier, she needed to know how wrong it was. "It is you who is to blame," he hissed at her. "You are enabling him to wallow in sin, and you will both burn because of it."

She was burning now, all right. This was the same crap he'd been spouting at the tribunal. He wouldn't recognize love if it smacked him in the face. Oh, so the marks all over your body are a sign of love, are they? a voice piped up in her head. You can't move without feeling pain, and not a day goes by that you're not worried that your Demon lover is going to cut you to ribbons. But that's OK, because you love him, right?

To shut that voice in her head up, Gail raised her own. "He's here," she called to Cas.

Castiel had Xavier tied to the chair from the living room now. He had broken the kitchen chairs in his rage upon seeing that Xavier had escaped, but this chair was more solid, and he had tied the bonds extremely tight this time. He had had to send Gail to fetch the chair and bring it into the kitchen, of course. Neither he nor Crowley could enter that area and expect to come back out, but she was obviously still not Demon enough to be caught in a Devil's Trap. He now reconsidered his plan to dose her again. Her ability to weave in and out of Devil's Traps could come in handy if Cas ever got trapped in one. After all, he would still have been a prisoner at the bunker had she not been able to free him from the Winchesters' Trap.

Crowley smirked. "Well, as much as I love a good torture, I'll be going now. Places to go, people to torment, things to arrange." He gave Gail a brief glance. Her heart skipped a beat. He was obviously talking about meeting with Rowena. She still had no idea how they were going to go about that, but Crowley would know, and she trusted him to keep the wheels in motion while she was stuck here.

Cas ignored Crowley. He had his blade out and he was staring at Xavier. Gail gave Crowley a look behind Cas's back, and Crowley nodded briefly. "I'll see you soon," he said aloud. He was talking to her, of course.

"Fine," Castiel said absently, waving his hand as if in dismissal.

Crowley gave Gail one more look. She looked sad, and a little scared, too. Crowley could understand that, at least from her point of view. She still thought she loved his Brother, but she was about to see a very ugly side of him, the one she'd been trying to avoid acknowledging. He pitied her, in a way. Crowley knew that nothing hurt more than being disappointed by the single person you thought would never hurt you. Gail was just finding that out now, but Crowley had known it all his life. His mother had abandoned him when he had been just a young boy, and his whole existence since had been a product of the hurt he'd felt when he'd realized she was not coming back. His Kingdom of Hell had been constructed with bricks of pain, held together with the mortar of disappointment. If she'd never wanted him, why the bloody hell had she ever had him in the first place? Mothers were supposed to love you and take care of you, and Rowena had only ever taken care of herself. But she was dead now, and Crowley still lived, so he supposed he was having the last laugh. He would call Moose when he left here, to see if he'd figured it out yet. Crowley sighed. Since he'd decided to stay away from their communication with his mother, Crowley supposed it would fall to him to keep Castiel occupied yet again. He hated his mother, and he hated his Brother, and he knew the feelings were entirely mutual. Was it any wonder he felt the need to look at Gail every now and then, to feel a gaze that contained a little warmth?

He snapped his fingers and disappeared from the cabin.

So now it was just the two of them and Xavier, and they had their former enemy incapacitated and at their mercy. Castiel was pacing around the chair, turning the blade over in his hands, enjoying the look of fear on Xavier's face.

But Xavier was still defiant. He should not have been surprised to see Crowley here, he supposed. Xavier had dealt with the King of Hell out of necessity during his climb to power, and he knew what Crowley was all about. Sin was Crowley's stock-in-trade, and this couple had an abundance of it. And now it seemed that they were going to torture him together. Xavier had tried to show everyone in Heaven what they were, but he had failed in the end. How had they been able to fool everyone about their true natures? No matter. They had not fooled him, and they did not fool him now.

Cas looked at Gail. "What should we do first?" he asked her.

She had no idea what to say to that. She'd never tortured anyone before, and she didn't particularly want to do so now. As much as she hated Xavier, Gail didn't think she could bring herself to actually take the blade to him. He just looked so pathetic. Wouldn't watching him continue to suffer through life as a human be just as satisfying?

She gave Cas a shrug. He was frowning at her. Now that she was here, he really wanted her to share in the experience with him. He knew she was still resistant, but he had charmed and persuaded her into doing things she'd been reluctant to do before, and Cas was sure he could do so again. Once she'd tried it, he was sure she would like it. Just like their session on the couch.

He walked up to her, putting his blade in her hand. "Just once," he said to her, using his soft voice. She was looking into his eyes, and though hers had darkened a bit, he could still see the reluctance in them. She needed some more motivation.

Cas kissed her, using his tongue, and he slipped his hands under her top, teasing her with his thumbs.

As expected, Xavier snapped, "Please refrain from that disgusting display in my presence."

"You see?" Cas said to her. "He hasn't changed. He called you a slut, and he called you a whore. He made you watch me die. How do you really feel about him?" He slipped one hand into Gail's pants, stroking her. "And how do you feel about me?"

"I love you," Gail breathed. "And I hate him."

The Demon in her took over now. Cas was right. She gripped the knife tighter, moving against his hand.

"You will both burn in Hell," Xavier said in disgust.

"Save us a spot," Gail said. She pulled away from Cas and advanced on Xavier, slashing him in the face with the knife. He needed to shut up.

Xavier stared at her. "I was a victim," he said bitterly. "You are participating willingly. You ARE a whore, and you are his slave."

She slashed him again. She had no idea what he'd meant about his having been a victim, but she wasn't going to stand here and listen to his crap. Especially since he was right.

Cas came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. "Do you see now?" he said in her ear. "Do you see how exciting it is?"

He was excited, that was for sure. She could feel him rubbing against her. Oh, this was so wrong. She'd been angry, that was all. Seeing Xavier bleed hadn't excited her, it was Cas who was exciting her. He was licking her ear now, telling her what he wanted to do to her. Making sure Xavier could hear. But Xavier wasn't speaking now; he was too shocked by what he was witnessing. Castiel was the Devil, and Gail was his mistress. How long had this been going on? Since Las Vegas? And why was he the only one who seemed to see it?

Cas was elated. Gail was his true mate now. He no longer had to hide anything from her. By raising the knife to Xavier, she had signalled to Cas that she was willing to accept him for everything that he was, and that she loved him for himself, not for what everyone had always wanted him to be. He was no one's hero, and he was tired of being so good all the time. He'd had more pleasure in the last couple of weeks than he had ever experienced as an Angel. What was so great about being good, anyway? All he'd ever felt as an Angel was pain and sadness. Now he had power, and he had love in its truest form. What could be better than that?

Gail turned around to face him, and her eyes were the darkest he'd ever seen them. If he'd been excited before, he lost it now. Cas took the knife from her and flung it across the room, then picked her up and carried her into the cabin's bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and tore the clothes off of her, running his hands roughly over her body. He tore open his shirt and she unzipped his pants, taking him in her hand. He moved against her, groaning in his excitement. He was ready to go right now, but she deserved a reward for what she had just done. So he stood and quickly removed his pants, then he grabbed her and flipped her over onto her stomach. "Let's do what he hates the most," Cas said, and then he was in her. He reached around to stroke her the way she liked, and that made it easier for her to work through the pain. If they were going to continue to do it this way sometimes, she'd ask him to get her more ready next time. But then he was licking her ear, telling her how much he loved her, and she was starting to go with it now. She began to move against him, saying his name.

"Louder," Cas smiled. "I want him to hear." He moved faster, even more excited at the thought. Then she was saying she loved him, and Cas moaned. Gail was whimpering now. He loved it when she did that. He shouted her name, and then he was still. He was spent, but he continued to stroke her. He had to make sure that she was satisfied, too. He could be selfish in other ways, but he needed to make sure that she was happy so she would stay with him. Look at the marks all over her body. That wasn't love. As bad as he was now, he knew that. She merely submitted to him; and he did love her, he really did, but he just couldn't seem to stop hinself from hurting her. She just got him so damn excited.

Just like she was doing now. It was incredible. He was ready to go again. He lifted himself off of her and flipped her around, bringing her to his mouth and himself to hers. They used their tongues on each other and soon they were crying out again. It was so good, just so damn good. Xavier was crazy. Cas could almost feel sorry for him. He would never experience love like this. Too bad for him.

Xavier was done. He could hear the two of them in the other room, making their disgusting noises. He could only imagine what they were doing in there. Not that he wanted to. They called that love? So had his uncle, but his uncle had been a liar. All he'd done was manipulate Xavier into satisfying him under the guise of love, and he was sure that was what Castiel was doing to Gail now. If he could just make her see that, maybe she could wake up in time to save herself.

But it was too late for Xavier. He was tired, he was in pain, and he just wanted it to be over now.

Cas was holding Gail now, kissing her, telling her how much he loved her. He was the happiest he had ever been. In a minute, they would get dressed and go back to Xavier, and they would relish the look on his face. Cas knew he would have heard them, and that had made everything they'd done even sweeter. When Xavier died, he would have their sounds of satisfaction ringing in his ears, and he would know that Castiel was deserving of love.

He smiled at Gail. "I guess we'll need a change of clothing," he said, lifting an eyebrow. Yeah, they certainly would. At least, she would. He had ripped her clothes to shreds.

He kissed her once more. "Wait here," he said. Then he was gone. Of course she would wait here, Gail thought with some amusement. She certainly wasn't going to walk out there naked.

She was even more sore now than she'd been this morning, and she looked down at herself, frowning. Her body looked like a road map again, and she felt like roadkill. Once the waves of pleasure had receded, the pain had started to take over. And she was sure she could look forward to more of the same when Cas was done here. Wow. She'd better figure out a way to contact Crowley soon, or Cas would love her so much she would end up in the emergency room.

They came into the kitchen, and Xavier noticed that Castiel's shirt was different, and that Gail was wearing different clothes altogether. So those had been the ripping sounds he'd heard. They were nothing more than animals now.

Cas strode into the room, smiling widely, but Gail was moving very gingerly, as if each step she took hurt her a great deal. It served her right, Xavier thought with righteous indignation. Anyone who willingly submitted themselves to that kind of degredation deserved what they got. But then it suddenly occurred to him that that was how he had moved after those times with his uncle. How had his parents never noticed that? Of course, his father had rarely been around to notice anything, and his mother had been so busy trying to keep his thoughts pure that she had never noticed how soiled his body had become.

Gail was a victim, too, Xavier now realized. It was too late for him to save himself, but maybe she could still be saved.

"Look at yourself," Xavier said to Gail. "You need to stand up to him, tell him no, before it's too late."

"Shut your mouth," Cas said, backhanding him.

"I will not," Xavier insisted. He knew he was going to die, and soon. He needed to make his confession, and in doing so, maybe he could get through to Gail.

"My uncle molested me when I was a child," Xavier said. How awful, but how liberating, it was to finally say it out loud. "He claimed to love me, but he spoiled me, and he hurt me. I was powerless against him, but you don't have to be," he continued, staring at Gail. "You need to end this now, before he drags you down into the depths of Hell with him. It may already be too late."

Gail looked at him, open-mouthed. Now she got it. No wonder Xavier was the way he was. It all made perfect sense now that she knew. But she was still in denial. Her situation was totally different. Is it? that little voice whispered. Yes, it is, she argued with herself. She and Cas loved each other. They were mates. Partners. Oh, yeah? the voice shot back, growing louder. Then why was he breezing around the kitchen, grinning, while she was standing in the corner in pain, trying not to cry from the feeling of it?

Cas slashed and stabbed Xavier, in a frenzy now. How dare he speak to Gail that way? Yes, what had happened to Xavier was unfortunate. Even Cas was not so far gone that he could not understand that. But Xavier had turned around and taken out his bad feelings about himself on others, most especially on Castiel himself, and that was wrong. Isn't that what you're doing right now? his own little voice whispered in his ear, and he slashed Xavier a couple more times just to shut that voice up.

"You see what he is," Xavier gasped. He hissed in pain, but his eyes never wavered from Gail's. "How can you stand there and say you love him? You need to save yourself, now."

Cas was livid now, but he was also getting scared. She was looking at both of them with wide eyes, and Xavier was saying everything that Cas had been afraid that Gail was thinking. And how could she not? It was all true.

"I am what you and your like made me," Cas said to Xavier bitterly.

"No, Cas," Xavier said, using Castiel's Earthly name. Was it even Xavier speaking, or was it the voice in his own head? "You made yourself what you are now. You hate yourself, you always have, and you're projecting those feelings on me and on everyone else. You're a monster because you believe you're a monster."

Castiel's hand paused as he'd been about to bring the blade down again. For a moment, he was seeing himself through Xavier's eyes, but, more importantly, he was seeing himself through Gail's. He WAS a monster now, and he had no one but himself to blame if she left him. The tribunal had exposed every flaw, every failing he had ever had, and Castiel had always known what he truly was. He couldn't cut it as a human, he'd never been a good Angel, he had been a selfish and ineffectual God, and now that he was a Demon, he was in the process of dismantling every good thing that had ever been given to him in his entire miserable existence. Bobby and Sam and Dean hated him now, and he was pushing Gail away with both hands. How long before she hated him too, if she didn't already? His Father had claimed that he loved Castiel, yet He had allowed his Son to experience heartbreak after heartbreak and then He had allowed Castiel to die, and He had prompted Crowley to revive him. Now Castiel had his Brother's Demon stink all over him, and Metatron's little recipe had turned Castiel into something he himself didn't even recognize. Gail should have killed him a long time ago, when he'd put that first mark on her body. And why hadn't she? Because he was using whatever remnants of love and compassion she had for him against her. He had dosed her to keep her compliant, and was using sex and fear to try to hold her, but his grasp was slipping, and he knew it. She should save herself before it was too late. He had attempted to build her a home, but he'd built a prison instead. Was there any difference between him and beings like Xavier, or Crowley? Even they seemed to have a sense of conscience, but apparently, he no longer did.

But he did have a blade, and right now, he held the power. Castiel brought the blade down and drove it into Xavier's chest, killing him. Let Crowley have him now. He'd never be speaking to Gail like that again.

Gail felt sick. She was glad it was finally over, though. Xavier had been released from his misery now, and it was just as well. She supposed he'd be going to Hell now. What had been done to him by his uncle wasn't his fault, but Xavier had done a lot of reprehensible things in Heaven on his climb to power, so Bobby would likely have no choice.

And now what? Nothing to do but go home, get Cas cleaned up, and love him as best she could until she was able to communicate with Crowley about the meeting with Rowena. She'd seen Cas's face when Xavier had said what he'd said to him, and she'd watched as his knife hand had frozen. Something Xavier had said had gotten through to Cas, at least momentarily, and he had looked anguished. Then he'd brought the blade down and finished Xavier, and it had almost seemed like a mercy killing. She needed to believe that there was still a part of him that could be reached, that wouldn't allow him to hurt her too badly before she got the cure.

Cas stepped away from Xavier's body, and he looked at Gail. Then he smiled. "There," he said. "He won't be insulting us any more." He started walking toward her, still smiling.

And that was when Bobby appeared.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Cas," Bobby said casually, looking down at Xavier. "Now I see why."

Cas backed away, still moving towards Gail but not taking his eyes off Bobby. Gail didn't know if she should be elated, or afraid. She had wanted to avoid a confrontation like this. If Cas made a move against Bobby, Bobby would have no choice but to kill him, and she would have gone through all of this for nothing.

"Let's go, Cas," she said, moving towards him. If she could just get a hold of his hand, they could wink out of here and Bobby could go about his business; the disposition of Xavier's soul.

But Bobby saw how gingerly she was moving, and his eyes narrowed. That looked all too familiar to him. Sam and Dean had told him that she'd seemed better the last time they saw her, but she wasn't looking all that healthy to him.

"What else have you been doing, Cas?" Bobby asked him quietly, nodding in Gail's direction. "Why is Gail moving like that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cas mumbled, avoiding Bobby's eyes.

"No? You don't?" Bobby said, raising his voice. "How about now?" He held up a hand and flung Cas against the wall. He waited patiently for Cas to get up and move away from the wall. Then Bobby did it again, sending Cas crashing into the opposite wall. "How about now?" Bobby shouted. Cas was slower to get up this time, and he was staring at Bobby warily.

"Please don't, Bobby," Gail pleaded with him. She appreciated him standing up for her, but if he kept this up, Cas was going to retaliate, and then Bobby would obliterate him.

But Cas didn't retaliate. Whether it was because he knew he couldn't beat God, or because he knew he deserved what Bobby was doing to him, Gail wasn't sure.

"Pain don't feel good, does it, Cas?" Bobby said sarcastically. "You want to think about that. You really do." He raised his hand once more, and Cas's blade hand moved, slashing his own arm. Cas hissed in pain.

"And if I ever hear about you using that thing on her again, that's just a preview," Bobby said, his voice quiet again.

Gail ran to Cas then, standing in front of him. Blocking him from Bobby. But Bobby took a deep breath and made himself stop. Mastering others was nothing but strength; mastering yourself was the true power. He had made his point. Sam and Dean seemed to think they had a way to reverse the spell and find the cure, and Bobby had to remind himself that this wasn't the real Cas he was seeing now. But Cas was walking on very thin ice. Bobby had stayed away for too long, and he was also to blame for what had been happening to Gail. If they couldn't force her out of that house, they could at least keep a closer eye on her. He meant to point out to Cas the consequences of hurting her any further. And if Cas needed more than one lesson, Bobby would be only too glad to provide it.

"Let's go, Cas," Gail said again. She reached behind her, extending her hand, hoping he'd take it. And, mercifully, he did. Gail gave Bobby one last look, trying to convey everything she was feeling with her eyes. And then she winked them out of the cabin.

Chapter 3 - Survivor's Guilt

Now guilt was the emotion of the day, and there was more than enough of it to go around.

After reluctantly sending Xavier's soul to Hell, Bobby popped back into the bunker to give Sam and Dean the report.

"She doesn't look good, boys," Bobby said, sitting down heavily at the table.

Sam was pacing the floor. "We've got to get over there, Bobby! Who the hell cares if she doesn't want to leave him? We'll just take her, anyway!"

But Bobby was shaking his head. "It doesn't work like that, Sam. She has to want to accept our help. If you take her, what are you gonna do? Lock her up? Hold her prisoner? Then you'd be no better than - " but his throat closed up. He couldn't say it. The Cas he'd just seen had looked like a monster, and Bobby felt sick to his stomach.

Maybe Bobby couldn't say it, but Dean could. Of all of them, he was the most hurt by what his friend had become. He and Cas had always been especially close, but Dean could no longer defend Cas. " - No better than Cas," Dean said out loud, laughing bitterly. "Yeah, Bobby, we know. But what the hell are we supposed to do to keep her safe?"

Bobby shrugged. He was damned if he knew. Except for being able to teach Cas that little lesson, Bobby's Godly powers were useless in this situation. He could freeze time, but he could not turn back the clock. And even if he could, how far back would he need to go? The cabin? The tribunal? Cas and Gail's first meeting here in this bunker? How about Creation?

Because he had spent much of his adult life analyzing his parents' relationship and what had gone wrong between them, Bobby knew that when a guy abused his wife or girlfriend, it was because he hated himself, not her. That had certainly been true in Bobby's father's case, and Bobby could imagine it was true for Cas, as well. Demon juice aside, there was a bigger issue here, Bobby was sure of it. He had never really sat down and talked with Cas man-to-man, but Bobby thought he understood some of what Cas was feeling now. The tribunal had only served to shine a spotlight on it. Bobby realized that Cas had probably always felt like a misfit everywhere he had gone, and God hadn't exactly helped the situation when he kept throwing test after test at His supposed favourite Son. Bobby should have known that there would be emotional fallout from the fact that God had basically set Cas up to be executed. You couldn't just play with people's lives and emotions like they were some kind of pieces on your personal gameboard and not expect some blowback. Bobby had had some personal experience with PTSD, and it was nothing to mess with. He should have recognized that Cas, and to a lesser extent, Gail, would have felt this way after everything had settled down a bit. But then there had been that whole thing with the Demon Tablet, and then there had been the cabin, and by then, it had been too late. There would likely have been nothing Bobby could have done about it anyway, but at least he could have tried. For all his bluster about honesty and straight talk, Bobby hadn't exactly been practicing what he preached, had he? He'd kept his association with Rowena quiet from his friends, and had kept her spell book all those years, and both of those secrets had come back to haunt him.

But it wasn't Bobby who had been bitten in the ass, it was Cas, and poor Gail. When Cas had still had a sense of decency, he had brought Gail's brother Frank back from Hell, but now Frank had been driven away now by the couple's Demon influence. Bobby could see Frank on the road right now, sitting in a motel room, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong so fast between him and Gail. Frank had reached out to call her many times, but every time, his hand drew back before he placed the call. She didn't need him any more, and Frank knew the friction between him and Cas was hard on her. It seemed she had made her choice between the two of them, and though that had been a bitter pill for Frank to have to swallow, he guessed he had no choice but to accept it. He didn't belong in her world, and she no longer wanted to be part of his.

Seeing this and reading Frank's thoughts had made Bobby sad. Frank could be a great source of support for Gail now, but if he ever found out what was really going on, Frank was a dead man. He would try to kill Cas, and Cas would wipe the floor with him. Bobby was the only being who had the power to deal with Cas the way Cas was now. But though tossing Cas around a bit had given Bobby some personal satisfaction as partial justice for what he had put Gail through, Bobby knew that wasn't the answer in the long term. That was why he was here, backing the Winchesters in their attempt to find the cure.

"Have you figured out how you're going to talk to Rowena?" Bobby asked them now, sighing. Rowena. Every time he said her name or even thought about her, Bobby felt that stab of guilt.

"I think I have found a way," Sam said. "Remember when Dean had the..." he motioned to his own arm, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"You can say it, Sammy. The Mark of Cain," Dean said.

Bobby furrowed his brow. That had been an ugly time in the brothers' lives, and he didn't like to be reminded of how close Dean had come. "Yeah. What about it?" he asked Sam.

Sam looked apologetically at Dean, then said, "Cas and I went to a medium then, a guy who specializes in contacting the dead."

Now it was Bobby's turn to roll his eyes. "A medium. Of course."

Sam was frowning now. "But I don't know if this guy can contact anyone in the Netherworld. There's virtually nothing on the Netherworld in the lore. Even the Men of Letters didn't seem to know anything about it. Just like that 'Originals' thing. Nothing."

Naturally, Bobby thought. God had played things awfully close to the vest, hadn't He? Then He'd left, and He'd left Bobby holding the bag. Great.

"We need to talk to Crowley," Sam said, continuing to frown. "He's the only one we have access to who seems to know all about this stuff. I can ask him if Oliver can, what did they call it? 'Pierce the veil'."

None of them liked this ongoing association with Crowley, but they had no choice at the moment. And to be fair, he had been helping them. They knew it must be because it was in the King's best interests, like everything else he did, but still...

Sam placed the call.

"I was just about to call you, Moose," Crowley said. And that was mostly true. Crowley had made a mental note to call Sam and Dean once he had left Castiel and Gail at the cabin, but some things had come up that had required his personal attention, and the time had just gotten away from him.

Like greeting Xavier when he'd arrived. Crowley had figured he'd be coming, of course. One look at his Brother with that blade in his hand and the King of Hell knew that Xavier was a goner. And Bobby would have had no choice but to send him to Crowley after everything Xavier had done.

Crowley had been waiting in the reception area when Xavier had arrived, and the King had brought him to the front of the line. "No waiting for VIP guests," Crowley had said cheerfully.

Xavier had looked at Crowley with contempt, but had said nothing.

"We have a couple of your old cronies here already," Crowley continued, and he smiled at the startled look on Xavier's face. "Yes, Lanister and Alexander are already here," Crowley told him happily. "I suppose I owe Castiel a Thank You card for that, anyway. And now I have you. I'm working on the set."

Xavier was astonished. Castiel had killed Lanister and Alexander, as well? He must be on a vendetta, getting revenge on anyone he felt had wronged him. Xavier still didn't feel like he had done anything to Castiel he hadn't deserved, and he especially felt that way now.

"Is Castiel a Demon?" Xavier asked Crowley bluntly.

Crowley considered his answer. Did he even want to discuss that with this guy? Just because he had conspired with Xavier to bring Castiel down at the time of the tribunal didn't mean that was any of Xavier's business. Besides, Crowley didn't know exactly what to call Castiel now. All he did know was that his Brother was giving Demons a bad name, and the sooner they could cure him, the better.

"What do you care?" Crowley said to Xavier. "You're going to have far worse things to worry about in a moment."

But Xavier couldn't let it go. Even though he felt dread at what Crowley had just said, Xavier still wanted some answers. He needed them. He just couldn't reconcile the Castiel who had just killed him with the Angel Castiel had known all those centuries. What had happened to him, and what did Crowley have to do with it?

"I care because whatever I might think of him, Castiel is an Upper Echelon Angel," Xavier said stiffly. "If you are responsible for the spell he is clearly under, then you should be ashamed of yourself."

Crowley couldn't believe it. Was this guy kidding with this? "There is no such thing as 'Upper Echelon' any more, Xavier," Crowley told him. "The mighty have fallen. Get used to it. You're on the bottom of the food chain now. And as far as Castiel is concerned, don't you worry about him. Things always seem to go his way in the end."

Xavier looked at Crowley, surprised. Not by what the King of Hell was saying, but by the way he was saying it. As if he were jealous of Castiel. Xavier knew that Crowley hated Castiel, of course, but this little nuance in Crowley's voice was interesting. Crowley was staring off into space now, thinking about what he'd just said to Xavier. Where had that come from? Xavier had been talking about Upper Echelon Angels, like that even meant anything any more, and then he was blaming Crowley for what Castiel had become! The King of Hell had been thrown off his game by that.

Was it possible that Crowley was feeling just a wee tad guilty about his part in the sorry state his Brother found himself in now? If Crowley had not breathed so much Demon into Castiel when he'd revived him after the execution, Metatron's mysterious cocktail might not have affected Castiel nearly as much as it clearly had. And even though Crowley had removed much of the essence he had put into his Brother at the cabin, it had obviously been too late. By that time, the poison had already infected Castiel's system. Crowley had thought that it would be funny to see his Brother struggle against the Demon influence, but there was not too much that was funny about what was going on with Castiel now. Gail's face kept appearing in Crowley's mind, looking at him with silent reproach. He had been telling himself that he didn't care, but the fact was, he kind of did, and it was bothering him.

The King of Hell, with a conscience? Feeling badly about his own role in the misfortune of the Angels he had opposed for so long? Was it possible?

In any event, Xavier wasn't going to stand there and talk to Crowley that way. He was in Crowley's territory now, not Heaven, and Xavier was about to learn some hard facts of life, and death. He may have started out his young life as a victim, but Xavier had used his power in Heaven to victimize others, and now he would complete the circle by being a victim once again.

Crowley led Xavier to the reception desk and handed him over to the intake staff to be processed. Xavier was a nothing and a nobody now, just another one of the rank and file, and Crowley no longer cared.

So when Sam called him, Crowley was more than ready to talk about their contacting Rowena. The sooner the better, in Crowley's opinion. This whole thing was getting old, and he just wanted it to be over. Maybe take a little vacation after this. Where would the King of Hell go on a holiday, anyway? Antarctica? Heaven? Mars?

"Can we just go to a medium?" Sam was asking Crowley. "Or is there any kind of a special way we have to do it?"

"No," Crowley told him. "Now that Death has given us permission to pierce the veil, a standard seance should suffice." He smirked. "Be prepared for some resistance, though. Mummy Dearest was never known for her altruism." In point of fact, Crowley wondered if they were just setting themselves up for a huge disappointment. Why would Rowena help them? What could possibly be in it for her? Rowena had never done anything out of the goodness of her heart, Crowley was sure. She had definitely never done anything even remotely kind for her son. But this wasn't his problem. Now that Sam knew what to do, they could work it out on their own. Crowley had no desire to speak to his mother again.

"We may need your help to contact Gail, though," Sam told him now. He was still fuming about the fact that Bobby wouldn't let them just drive over to the house and get her. She would be safe at the bunker; he and Dean could see to it. Cas couldn't enter the bunker now that the extra protections were in place, and there was no way the brothers would let him get the drop on them outside again, like he had before. Fool me once, Sam thought. But even though it went against Sam's every impulse, he supposed he'd better defer to Bobby, yet again. Bobby was the closest thing Sam had to a father. He and his biological father, John, had never been especially close. And Bobby was now God. Sam was a grown man, but that was a lot of authority to rebel against, and Sam wasn't generally a rebellious kind of guy.

Crowley frowned. He supposed he would be the one to end up doing that. Right now, he was their conduit to Gail, and the task would also fall to him to keep Castiel occupied somehow while they went to their seance. He sighed. He was so sick of Castiel. Crowley actually felt nostalgic for the good old days when he and his Brother had played on opposite sides and took great pains to avoid each other whenever possible. And he could definitely do without having to look at Gail's doe eyes and her painful gait for a while, too. Crowley didn't like the way he felt when he looked at her.

"All right, Moose," Crowley said to Sam. "I'll call you back after I talk to Gail. Then you can take her to see your medium."

He hung up, then sat there for a moment, thinking. How was he going to pry her away from his Brother's clutches this time?

Gail was away from them for the moment, and she had taken Cas's blade and phone downstairs to the living room. She needed to find out what was going on, and she needed to find out now. The confrontation with Bobby had scared her badly, almost as badly as what had happened upstairs a few minutes ago, and she was running out of time.

But at least there had been one ray of hope, however brief it had turned out to be.

When they'd gotten back from the cabin, Cas had looked at Gail and said, "You go ahead and get cleaned up. I'll go after." So she had limped into the shower. She'd only had a little fresh blood on her, but there had been quite a bit of transfer from Cas when they'd had that session in the cabin's bedroom, so Gail took her time and made sure to clean herself thoroughly. She didn't want one drop of Xavier's blood on her. She vacillated between being glad he was dead and feeling sorry for him because of what he had been through as a child. He had been horrible to them, but still, no one deserved that. What a shame.

Gail came out of the bathroom, and Cas went in. She laid down on the bed to wait for him, closing her eyes. What an exhausting day. She wished again that she could have the sweet release of sleep, even for just a few hours. It would be so great to just forget about the mess their lives had become, if only for a short while, and to forget about the mess she had become. Maybe even to be able to dream. She'd try to dream of Las Vegas, or Vancouver. Back when she'd been happy.

She heard Cas come into the bedroom and she opened her eyes to look at him. Here it came, she thought wearily. But he was just standing there, looking at her. This was new.

"What?" she asked him curiously. Should she be worried, or not?

Cas was looking at her body, really looking at it, for the first time in a long time. Seeing all of the bruises, scratches and abrasions. The ones he'd caused. And there she lay, waiting for him to come to her and...do what, exactly? Add more? How could she even stand to look at him right now?

"Can I ask you a question?" he said to her, trying to keep his voice steady.

Now he really had her attention. He looked so strange. Almost scared. Gail sat up slowly, and as she winced with the pain the motion had caused, Cas felt as if Bobby had just flung him against the wall again. How long had she been like this? How had he not noticed? The answer was simple, of course. He had. But he'd pushed it to the back of his mind in favour of his own selfish pleasure.

Cas slowly approached her, and Gail said, "What is it, Cas?"

He stood at his side of the bed, looking down at her. "Are you staying with me because you love me?" he asked her quietly. "Or because you're afraid of me?"

Gail froze. Oh, God. What should she say here? Was he baiting her? Seeking reassurance? He didn't seem angry, and his eyes were the light purple she'd come to associate with mildness. Or at least, mild for this new version of him. And what was the truth, anyway?

The hell with it. She tried to smile. "Mostly Column A, but there's some Column B too, if I'm being honest," she told him.

Cas nodded. He suspected there was a lot more "B" than she was willing to admit, but he appreciated her honesty. Up until recently, they'd always had that going for them, anyway. Gail had never been shy about letting him know how she felt on any given subject. He would have smiled if he wasn't feeling so devastated. But he had asked the question, hadn't he?

"I'm sorry, Gail. I'm just so..." His voice faltered. So...what, exactly? A lump formed in his throat. Xavier had been a hateful being, but he had done Cas a huge favour. And the contempt Cas had seen in Bobby's eyes had been the wake-up call he'd needed. Now, Gail was admitting that she was only here because she was afraid of him. She'd said it was mostly because she loved him, but she was lying to be kind, he was sure of it. Who could love something like him? He should pack her things himself and take her to the bunker, right now.

Instead, he got into the bed and gently took her in his arms. She put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. The Demon had let her Cas out for a moment, and Gail was grateful for the respite.

"I love you so much," Cas murmured, then he came out of the embrace and looked at her. "Too much, obviously. But I can't stop. I'll never stop. You need to leave me." He forced the words out. He had no marks on his own body, but he knew this was what real pain felt like.

Gail thought about it. She probably should, now that he was giving her the chance. His hand was gently touching her face now, but at any second that same hand could clamp down on her, and the opportunity would be lost.

"What will you do if I do?" she asked him softly.

Cas smiled sadly. "Probably kill myself," he answered. Now it was his turn to be honest with her. "I should have done that when I put that first mark on you."

Her heart sank. He might just do it too, the way he was looking at the moment. Now she couldn't leave. Was this the Demon manipulating her, using the ultimate trump card? Or was Cas being sincere? She honestly couldn't tell. But there was no way she could take that chance. She might be saving herself if she left now, but if he did do it, she could never forgive herself.

God help her. God help them both. She kissed him, and after a moment he responded. She gave him her tongue, and his arms tightened around her, but not enough to hurt.

"I love you, Cas," she told him. "I'm not going anywhere."

He was glad, and sad at the same time. It had taken all the strength he'd had to say that to her, but now she was making him weak. The Demon began to take over again and its tongue was in her mouth. He laid her down and soon he was kissing her all over, using his tongue as if it could heal all of the marks on her. And when he got to the place that was only for him, Cas made love to her with his tongue, vowing never to hurt her again.

Gail loved what he was doing, but she was preoccupied with what he'd said, and she didn't think it was going to happen. But he was being so gentle. His fingers were barely caressing her skin, and all she could feel was his tongue. This was so intimate, and it was so intense. "Cas," she said softly, closing her eyes. But then she wanted to look at him, so she looked down and saw him making love to her. She moved herself closer to him, and the pain was forgotten in favour of the waves of pleasure. She cried out his name. It was so good, so good. She told him she loved him, and then she lost her words completely.

Cas smiled, and he continued what he was doing until she was quiet, then he murmured, "I love you, Gail, and I will never stop." Then he started again, and she was whimpering. He sped up, pouring all the love he had for her into the motion of his tongue, and she was crying out again. When she was finally still, he climbed on top of her and slid inside her, bringing her body up to meet his. He kissed her and their tongues came together as he moved inside of her. He groaned her name and buried his face in her neck, and she held his head as he finished.

And when they lay together afterwards and his hands were caressing her body, there was not one fresh mark on her. Cas and the Demon had managed to co-exist for once, to love Gail without hurting her, and if it could be like this all the time, she would never have to leave him, because he would never give her a reason to.

But that was a big "if". Even now, the Demon's mind began to wander, thinking of the blade he had left on the counter of the sink in the bathroom. He had washed it, but he'd left it there. It wasn't allowed in the bedroom now, and that was just as well. Bobby knew it was wrong, and so did Cas. But the Demon was whispering in his ear, telling Cas it would only enhance the experience. It'll hurt her, Cas protested. Not if you do it gently, the Demon cajoled.

Gail was smiling at him, kissing him softly. She hoped that maybe this could be a new beginning for them. She wasn't fooling herself that the Demon was gone, but obviously, what Xavier and Bobby had said to Cas was having an effect on him, and hopefully this new, gentler side of him would prevail until she could get the cure.

She had no idea. Cas was struggling with the Demon now, and the Demon was winning. He wanted to taste her blood so badly. It was an act of love to him, and if she would just let him, he would be gentle. If she would just let him do it, even just once, he would make love to her all night, however she wanted. He would make her so happy, if she would do this for him. He started to tremble with the need.

He got out of bed abruptly and left the room. Gail was confused. She'd felt him shaking. Where was he going?

Cas came back with the blade in his hand, and she sat up quickly. Damn. She'd let him lull her into a false sense of security, and now she was going to pay the price.

Gail's mind flashed back to the argument she'd had with Frank at the bunker. Frank had predicted this, and now it was really happening. She should have listened to her brother. She should have gotten in the car with him when he'd left the bunker. Hell, she should have done a lot of things. She probably should have just stayed in the pickup truck that night that the Demons had kidnapped them a year ago.

"Please, Gail," he wheedled, climbing onto the bed. "Please. Just once. I'll be gentle, I promise."

Gentle? Was he nuts? "You're talking about cutting me, Cas," she said warily. Her eyes darted to the left and then to the right. Could she run, then grab some clothes and pop out before he had the chance to grab her? Probably not. She should just pop out right now. The hell with modesty. But she just couldn't bring herself to show up at the bunker naked with these marks all over her body. If Sam and Dean saw her looking like this, they'd never help her get the cure because they'd never be able to look Cas in the face again. So far she'd managed to hide the worst of it from them, and she wanted to keep it that way.

She scrambled off the bed anyway, but Cas grabbed her by the arm. "Where are you going?" he asked her.

"Anywhere," she retorted. "Anywhere away from you. Away from that." She pointed at the blade.

He pulled her to him, trying to kiss her, but she smacked him in the face. "Lose the blade," she told him. "Now." His eyes darkened, but he set the blade down on the nightstand.

They looked at each other for a moment, then Cas let her go and put his hands up. "You win," he said, smiling. "I'm sorry. Let's just forget about it."

He got into bed and pulled her down on top of him. She didn't want the blade there, within arm's reach, but she also didn't want to argue at the moment. She'd gotten him to stand down, but since the Demon was back, she didn't want to push her luck. His tongue was in her mouth now and he was in an obvious state of excitement. She could feel him under her, and he was moving against her.

Cas was momentarily distracted, the blade forgotten for the moment. He'd wanted her to acquiesce, but her resistance had excited him too, as it always did. He didn't mind; she was making him earn it. It would be that much sweeter when she finally let him.

But in the meantime, she was letting him do everything else, and he would enjoy that, too. She lowered herself onto him and he grabbed her hips, trying not to squeeze too hard. He moved her up and down, closing his eyes, going with the feeling. She leaned down and whispered words of love in his ear, and he sighed contentedly.

Cas had his eyes closed, but Gail had hers wide open now. That had been a close one. She glanced at the blade on the nightstand, almost as if it were the blade's fault. But it was hers. She had been romanced into dropping her guard, and the Demon in Cas had taken advantage. She knew Cas was in there too now, and he seemed to be fighting, but she would have to fight too, and she'd better not forget that the weather could change at any time.

She was moving against him now, trying to excite him so that he could finish. Based on what she'd seen, he would probably be calmed enough to sleep then, and she could take his blade and his cell phone out of the bedroom and do what she needed to do.

Gail licked his ear, telling him how much she loved him and that she would never leave him, and Cas pulled her closer to him and groaned, then he was still. She laid down beside him and he held her for a moment, then he kissed her gently on the forehead and promptly fell asleep.

That was when Gail had slipped out of his arms and out of the bed. She dressed quickly and quietly, then gingerly lifted his blade and his phone from the nightstand and crept downstairs with both. She looked at the blade in her hand. Where to stash it? She had no idea, and she didn't want to take the time to think about it, so she kept it in one hand and pressed the speed dial on the phone with the other.

Dean answered, and he was startled to hear Gail's voice. "Are you OK?" he asked her immediately. Sam and Bobby looked up, concerned.

"I'm fine, Dean," she answered softly. Well, relatively speaking. "But we've got to get going on this cure. I'm losing my mind here."

"Then leave," Dean said sharply. "Come here. Right now." He had had it with her, and with the whole situation. This was the most frustrated he had ever felt. The hell with what Bobby said. This was stupid.

"I can't, Dean," she told him.

"Why not?" he said angrily. "Bobby told us he saw you, and he told us how you looked. Either you come here, right now, or I swear to God we're gonna - "

"What? You're gonna what?" she retorted. She was upset now. He had no idea how badly she wanted to do just that. Gail loved Cas, but she felt like she was living on borrowed time. But she couldn't just pick up and leave, either. What if he got another attack of conscience and followed through on his threat to commit suicide?

"What do you think?" Dean shot back, raising his voice. "What the hell, Gail? We all know what's wrong with Cas! What's wrong with YOU? How can you put up with this crap? I don't even know you any more!"

Gail could take a lot of stuff, and she had been soldiering on since they had found out about Cas and started on the road to the cure. But she couldn't take this from Dean, not now. She broke.

"Don't yell at me, Dean!" She was yelling herself now, and then she started to cry. He didn't understand; none of them did. She got up from the couch and began to pace the floor, frustrated. She couldn't leave, and she couldn't tell him why she couldn't leave. She wanted to go, but she didn't want to go. She needed Dean and Sam to help her in her search for the cure, but every time she talked to one of them lately, he was yelling at her. And she didn't even know Cas any more. Even if they did manage to cure him, Gail didn't know if she would even be able to look him in the face without suspicion ever again, much less live with him.

She turned from her pacing and bumped into Cas. He had woken a few minutes ago and had come looking for her. He'd heard her shouting, and he'd rushed down the stairs to see what was the matter.

Cas grabbed the phone from her hand. "What's going on, Dean?" he said into the phone. "Why are you yelling at Gail?"

Dean froze. He honestly didn't know what to say here. Which Cas was he talking to? His voice sounded mild enough, but considering what must be going on in that house, Dean didn't know if he should trust its owner.

"If you're going to yell at anybody, Dean, yell at me," Cas continued. "You told me I deserve it, and I do." Incredibly, he smiled then, and his eyes raised to Gail, including her in his smile, which looked genuine.

But Gail and Dean were both puzzled by Cas's remark. When had Dean said that? They both knew that he and Dean hadn't spoken to each other since Christmas. What was Cas talking about?

When Cas had fallen asleep earlier, he'd experienced the first dream he had ever had. While he had slept many times as a human, he had never dreamt, not even once.

But he was dreaming now, and he walked into the library area of the bunker. Dean was sitting at the table with his feet up, drinking a beer.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted him. "Sit down. Have a drink."

Cas sat across from Dean, and a bottle of beer and a shot of whiskey appeared on the table in front of him. He looked at Dean, startled. How had his friend done that? Even Cas couldn't do that.

But Dean wasn't looking at Cas. He hadn't looked at Cas when he'd entered the room, either. Dean just sat there, drinking his beer, acting as if Cas wasn't even in the room. And Dean did not look happy. He always used to smile when he saw Cas, teasing him about something or other. And when Gail had come into their lives, Dean had a hug and a smile for her too, sometimes teasing her about Cas, or her beloved coffee. And she'd always had a quick comeback for their friend, making Dean smile even more. Cas had not generally reacted to their repartee, but it had made him happy. But where was Gail now? Cas looked around for her.

"Where's Gail, Dean?" Cas asked him. Was she in the kitchen with Sam, maybe?

Then Dean did look at him, and Cas noticed with alarm that Dean's eyes had filled with tears. Dean swung his legs off the table and sat up. "What do you mean, 'where's Gail'?" Dean said incredulously. He slammed his beer bottle down on the table and it shattered. "Same place she's been for months! Dead."

Cas's heart stopped beating for a moment. "That's not funny, Dean."

"No, it isn't," Dean agreed angrily. And now, somehow, a fresh beer bottle was in his hand and the broken glass from the other one had disappeared. Dean continued to stare at Cas, as if waiting for him to say something.

But Cas had nothing to say. How could Dean say a thing like that to him? But, where WAS she, then? And where was Sam? He asked Dean this again.

"You killed Sam, you Demon son of a bitch," Dean said, looking at Cas with pure hate now. "And when Gail tried to stop you, you killed her, too. So now you and I are gonna have a drink, and when we're done, you're gonna kill me."

Now Cas knew Dean had to be joking, although he didn't see the humour. Cas loved Dean, just as he loved Sam. He would never kill either one of them. And the idea of killing Gail was so ridiculous it didn't even bear thinking about. As if he would ever do a thing like that. She was his wife; didn't Dean know that? Without Gail, there was no Cas.

"You need to stop," Cas said, annoyed. "I don't know what you think you're trying to accomplish by saying those things, but you're being ridiculous."

"Yeah?" Dean retorted. He tilted the beer bottle up to his lips and saw that it was empty. He shrugged and threw the bottle across the room, and an instant later, there was a fresh one in his hand.

Cas looked at this, puzzled. What sort of strange magic was that? What was going on here?

"See for yourself, then," Dean said to him. He pointed behind Cas to the area where the couch was, and Cas turned around in his chair to look. Gail and Sam were sitting on the couch talking. Sam had both of her hands in his, and Gail was crying. Cas noticed she had one of Sam's shirts on, and that appeared to be all she was wearing. He frowned. What was that all about?

Suddenly, Cas saw himself pop into the bunker, and this Cas saw the two of them together and rushed over to the couch. Sam was hugging Gail now, his back to Cas, but Gail saw Cas's approach and she screamed. Cas grabbed Sam and pulled him away from Gail and onto his feet. Then Cas was punching Sam, again and again, yelling at Sam to leave Gail alone. Sam was trying to defend himself, but Cas's attack was relentless. He picked Sam up off the floor where he'd fallen and flung him into one of the bookcases. The bookcase toppled over onto Sam, and by the time he was able to push it off, Cas was coming for him again, and now Cas had his blade in his hand.

"Stop it, Cas!" Gail was yelling, but Cas ignored her. He put his foot on Sam's chest to hold him down, then said, "You think you're just going to take her from me?"

Sam was in a lot of pain now, but he had to smile at that. "I don't need to, Cas. She wanted to come here. You drove her away."

Cas was scared now, but he knew you never showed your fear to your enemy. If they knew you were vulnerable, they would use it against you. So he knelt down, putting the blade to Sam's throat, and said, "You're a liar."

Then Gail was kneeling beside him with her hand on his arm. "Stop this, Cas. You don't want to do this."

And she was right. He didn't want to kill Sam. Or did he? One thing being a Demon had taught him was that compassion and mercy were for suckers. Look at the beings he had spared in the past who had caused him so much trouble because he had relented and let them live. Well, he had taken the lesson, and Sam needed to die now or he was just going to keep trying to split Cas and Gail up. Cas knew Sam wanted her for himself, but if he thought that was going to happen, he was wrong.

Cas raised the knife, but Gail grabbed his arm and held it, long enough for Sam to roll out from under Cas. Sam sprang to his feet as Cas pushed Gail away from him and dove for Sam, driving the blade into Sam's stomach. Then he stabbed Sam in the chest, and as Sam slumped to the floor bleeding, Gail screamed, "No!" She crawled over to Sam, putting her hands on him. There was still time.

But Cas grabbed her and pulled her off Sam. "Let him die," he said harshly. "It's me you love."

But she was shaking her head. "Not any more. I hate you now. Let go of me!" Gail was struggling, but he was gripping her tightly now, and his fingers were digging into her. She would have new bruises tomorrow. So what else was new? Just another fun day with Cas.

Cas was shocked. What had Sam done to her? Of course she loved Cas. Didn't she tell him that all the time? Yes, when you force her to in bed, the voice whispered. But when was the last time she had said it anywhere else? When did she last touch your face, or take your hand?

"Tell me you love me, Gail," he demanded, and he was shaking her now. But she wrenched herself out of his grasp and slapped him across the face. Then she dove for Sam again, but Cas grabbed her before she could put her hands on Sam. Sam's eyes were closed, and he was so still. Was he gone?

Then Sam stirred. He was still alive! Thank God. If she could just get Cas off of her, she could still heal Sam.

But Cas had seen Sam move too, and he raised his knife to finish the job. Panicked, Gail threw herself down on Sam's body. Now Cas wouldn't be able to stab Sam again. But Gail had moved so fast that Cas couldn't stop the downward motion of his arm, and he drove the blade right into Gail's chest.

He saw her momentary look of surprise, and then a blinding golden glow emanated from her chest as Cas withdrew the knife quickly, almost as if doing so could take back what he had just done. But it was too late. The golden glow faded, and then she was gone.

The scene Cas had just watched faded also, and he turned back in his chair to face Dean.

"Where were you?" he asked Dean quietly. As if it was somehow Dean's fault.

"Me?" Dean said bitterly. "I was out on a beer run." He drained the bottle and smashed it on the table again, and again a fresh bottle appeared in his hand. He looked at it, then looked at Cas. "I know, right? Never-ending supply of beer. Dean Winchester's dream world. Yeah. Not so much." He took another drink, then glared at Cas. "I got back just in time to see you standing over their bodies. Then you disappeared."

Cas was shattered. How could he live with himself now?

"You're not supposed to, and you don't deserve to," Dean said to him, as if Cas had spoken out loud. "I told you, you're going to kill me, and then you're going to kill yourself. We do this every day, Cas. I don't know what's confusing about that."

Cas looked at him sharply. "What do you mean, 'we do this every day'?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I mean, we do this every day. You come in here, in denial about what you did, and I drink beer after beer. Then you have to watch yourself killing Sam and Gail, then you kill me, and then you kill yourself. All day long. Day after damn day."

Cas gaped at Dean, still not understanding.

Dean was enraged now. "Don't you get it?" he shouted. He started flinging each fresh beer bottle that appeared in his hand against the walls, breaking them on the table, but they kept on coming and coming. "We're in Hell, Cas! We've been here for months now, maybe years! Sam and Gail are in Heaven together, and I'm stuck here with you! All because I was on a - " smash - "damn - smash - "beer run!"

Dean buried his face in his hands and started to cry. Cas stood and walked over to him, but instead of comforting Dean, he took his blade out and stabbed Dean, over and over. That was what he was supposed to do, right? And then he slashed his own wrists and reversed the blade, stabbing himself in the chest.

A moment later, Cas was walking into the library area, and Dean was sitting at the table with his feet up, drinking a beer.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted him. "Sit down. Have a drink."

Then, mercifully, Cas woke up.

He looked around the room. Where was he now? How had he just gotten from that never-ending loop at the bunker to his own bed? Then Cas had an idea. Had that been a dream? Never having had one before, he hadn't recognized the feeling. Of course. That's what it must have been.

Cas rolled over to tell Gail about it and to seek comfort, but her side of the bed was empty, and he felt a shock of fear go through him. Maybe it hadn't been a dream. Maybe this was the dream. Where was she?

Trying to stay calm, Cas got out of bed and put on a pair of pants. She might be in the basement, doing some more laundry. That must be it. She wasn't dead, she was doing laundry. It had only been a dream.

Then Cas heard Gail shouting, and although he was glad to hear her voice because it meant that she was still alive, he was alarmed. He had just been dreaming of Dean, and now Gail was shouting his name.

So Cas had hurried downstairs to see Gail shouting into the phone, and he had taken it from her so Dean would stop yelling at her. Then he'd smiled, because he was just so happy to see her there, still alive and vibrant.

But Cas was an otherworldly being, and to him, the dream hadn't just been a dream. It had been a prophecy, a foretelling of future events. He had to make sure that would never happen. It was time for Cas to be Castiel again. He had heard humans talk about being their own worst enemy, and that had certainly been true in his case. He had to fight himself now, and he could not let up. Whatever he had to do to get rid of the monster within him, Castiel would have to do. He could feel it trying to rise now, trying to tell him that Gail and the Winchesters had been conspiring behind his back, but he told the voice to shut up. They were all friends, weren't they? Though Cas knew that Dean was mad at him, he would take Dean's anger if Dean would help him now. While he was still thinking clearly.

"Dean, we have to talk, right now," Cas said into the phone. "Can Gail and I come over?"

Gail's eyes widened. Was Cas reaching out to Dean for help? Was she receiving some sort of miracle here?

Dean was wondering the same thing, but he frowned. He wished he could see Cas right now, try to read his face. The last time Dean saw Cas, he and Sam were tied up at Cas and Gail's house, and Cas was looking mighty dangerous. And Bobby had told them how Gail had looked. Was Cas trying to trap them again? But he couldn't get into the bunker now, though Gail still could. Had Cas forgotten that?

"Let me talk to Gail for a minute," Dean said to him.

Cas handed the phone to her. "He wants to talk to you again."

Gail took the phone, but her eyes didn't leave Cas's face. He looked OK, but she'd thought that before, hadn't she? She was still holding his blade in her other hand, but he wasn't looking at it, thank God. He was looking in her eyes.

"Dean?" Gail said into the phone.

"How does he look, Gail?" Dean asked her.

"OK, I think," she replied.

"He can't get into the bunker right now, remember?" Dean said to her.

Crap. She had forgotten. "You can't get into the bunker right now, apparently," she said to Cas softly.

But he was nodding. He remembered. It hurt him to think that, but he couldn't blame them. The way he was now, it only made sense. "I can if Dean invites me," he told her.

Gail sighed. "Just like Crowley."

"I heard," Dean said in her ear. "OK, give him the phone back. I'll tell him you guys can come in 15 minutes. I want a bit of notice this time, in case he tries anything."

"OK, Dean." She sighed again.

After Cas got the phone back, received the invitation, and hung up, he noticed the blade in her hand. "What are you doing with that?" he asked her.

She looked at him evenly. "I was removing it from the bedroom. You know it's not supposed to be there."

The Demon was trying to make Cas angry. Who the hell did she think she was, laying down rules like that? It was his blade, and his bedroom. But hadn't he promised her? He and Gail didn't break promises to each other.

"Take it, then," Cas said to her. "I don't need it in the bunker, anyway." Don't you? the Demon said. But Cas ignored him.

Gail smiled. She was very glad to hear him say that.

"In fact, why don't you hide it somewhere in the house?" Cas said lightly. He kissed her on the forehead. "I'm going to go upstairs and finish dressing, then I'll meet you back down here in a minute."

Then, incredibly, he turned and walked back up the stairs without another word. Gail stared after him for a minute, then she looked at the blade. Where to stash it?

She walked into the kitchen. Once again, it struck her as a little bit funny that two Angels had a kitchen in their house at all. It's not like they'd ever need it. But mainly, that was kind of sad, at least right now. She'd planned on using it plenty at Christmastime. They could at least have kept the fridge stocked with beer and snacks for when Sam and Dean or Frank came over. Maybe Jody, too. Gail felt badly about the way they'd left things last. After all this was over, she owed Jody lunch and an explanation, at the very least.

Gail opened one of the drawers and put the blade in it, then she walked back to the living room. Cas came downstairs wearing one of her favourite shirts on him and his blazer, and he still looked amazing, after all this time.

As he approached her, Cas held his blazer open. "Go ahead, take a look," he said mildly. Gail's brow furrowed. "Check my pockets," he said. "I want you to see that I'm unarmed."

Wow. She was impressed. He was really trying. So she approached him and checked his pockets, then she put her arms around him. She'd been about to make some kind of joke about the request he'd made being just an excuse to have her touch him, but the joke died on her lips as she remembered what was inside of him right now. She'd better not give the Demon any excuse. So Gail stepped back from Cas and extended her hand instead.

"Let's go," she said to him. He took her hand and they left for the bunker.

Cas and Gail popped into the library area. Sam and Dean were standing waiting for them, and though Gail could see no obvious show of force, she was sure that they would have weapons on themselves somewhere. They'd be crazy not to, after the last time.

"Sam, Dean," Cas said tonelessly in greeting. They each gave him a brief nod, but said nothing. Sam was looking murderous, though. He wanted to kick the crap out of Cas, at the very least. But Dean had told him that Cas had sounded conciliatory, saying he wanted to talk, and he was bringing Gail with him. "Let's see what he has to say first," Dean had said. "If we rush him as soon as they get here, he might freak out." So Sam had reluctantly agreed to stand down, but he wasn't happy about it. And it didn't help his mood any when Cas and Gail started to proceed to their usual chairs at the table. Gail was walking very slowly, as if every step she took hurt, and she didn't plunk herself down as she usually did; she sank down into the chair gingerly, using the table to steady herself. Sam looked at Cas, and if glares were laser beams, Cas would have been vapourized where he stood.

Cas could feel their stares on him, and while Castiel understood, and respected their restraint, the Demon was getting annoyed. He had come here of his own free will and he was unarmed, though he was sure they were armed to the teeth, to have a civilized conversation, and they were looking at him like he was Lucifer himself. As if they were so holy. They had both been to Hell, and Sam and Dean had both consorted with Demons. Dean himself had actually been a Demon a year or so ago, when he had had Crowley's Mark of Cain on his arm. And who had been there, through all that, bailing them out? Their old friend Castiel, that was who.

He went to take his usual seat beside Gail and then he noticed the Devil's Traps. They were painted underneath both chairs. Gail hadn't noticed the one under her chair when she sat; she'd been too busy watching Sam and Dean, making sure they weren't going to attack Cas. Especially Sam. He had a look of pure hatred on his face when he looked at Cas now. She'd never seen a look like that on Sam's face before, and it made her sad. His expression was usually so open and friendly, especially when he looked at her, and he used to grin a lot. Now he was looking at her with pity, and there was some disgust in there, too. She knew she was disgusting now; he didn't have to rub it in.

Cas looked at the brothers, pointing to the Devil's Traps. "So it's like that now, is it?" he said to them.

"Gotta be,"Dean said. "If you're really here to talk, we just want to make sure you stay until everyone has their say."

"So I'm to be held a prisoner here? Again?" Cas shot back.

Sam wasn't going to put up with that from him. "Isn't that what you're doing to her?" he asked angrily, waving his hand in Gail's direction.

"Oh, so I'm so disgusting you can't even call me by my name now?" Gail said bitterly.

Sam's heart hurt. "No, Gail, I didn't mean that," he said to her. He started to walk around the table towards her, intending to give her a hug and apologize, but Cas held up his hand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Cas said quietly. He was fighting the internal battle again. The dream he'd had was still fresh in his mind, and he had vowed to himself that he would not hurt Sam. But he also remembered seeing Gail wearing Sam's shirt and nothing else, and seeing Sam's hands on her. The Demon was making him feel jealous and insecure. If Sam were to touch Gail right now, Cas might lose it.

Sam stopped short and looked across the table at Cas. Really?

Gail sighed. "Let's all just sit down," she said.

Cas stood just outside the Devil's Trap and said, "Gail..." She looked at him, then looked down to where he was pointing. She shrugged. So what?

"If we need to leave, you'll have to help me leave," Cas said to her sharply.

Gail shrugged again. It's not as if she hadn't done it before. "OK, Cas," she said to him. "Just sit down, please."

Cas was angry, but Gail extended her hand to him and repeated, "Please."

He couldn't not take that hand. Maybe she and the Winchesters were conspiring to hold him prisoner here, but he'd have to take that chance. It had been his idea to come here to talk, hadn't it? And he'd better do it before he completely lost lost control of himself. Again.

So Cas sat down and took Gail's hand, and only then did Sam and Dean take their seats. Cas wouldn't be able to do anything now, so they felt safe enough.

But now that Cas was here, he didn't know exactly what he'd intended to say. Could he try to talk to the brothers, explain his side of things? And what was his side, actually? He saw them looking at him suspiciously, and he saw them looking at Gail with a peculiar mixture of sympathy and anger.

"How are you feeling, Gail?" Dean said suddenly.

She looked at him coolly. Did he really want to open with that? Was he trying to stir things up?

"I'm fine, Dean," she told him. Her stock answer these days. Lying through her teeth to try to keep the peace.

"No, you're not," Sam said quietly.

Gail sighed. "OK. Maybe I'm not."

"That's my responsibility," Cas blurted out.

Dean looked at him curiously. What a strange way to put it. "Don't you mean that's your fault?" he snapped.

"No, it's my fault," Gail said. And what did she mean by that, exactly? Did she mean she should be living here, not in that house? Did she mean she'd been feeding Cas's Demon, enabling it to treat her this way? Was she so desperate for Cas's love that she'd let him do whatever he wanted to her so she wouldn't have to be without him?

Dean slammed his hand down on the table, making her jump. "None of this is your fault!" Dean shouted at her. Then he took a deep breath. Now she was looking at Dean as if HE scared her. Bobby would have Dean's ass if he was here. This was exactly the wrong way to talk to her.

"I'm sorry, Gail," Dean said in a quieter tone. "I just can't sit here and hear you say that. It's Cas's fault, not yours. He just needs to admit it."

"I do admit it," Cas said sadly. He couldn't stand to see Dean yell at Gail that way. "Don't do that, Dean. You're right, it IS my fault. That's why we're here. I need your help."

Finally, Dean thought. Now we're getting somewhere. "We've been working on the cure, Cas," he said. "Just hang on a bit longer."

Gail's eyes widened. She wasn't sure it was a good idea for Dean to have said that. The Demon in Cas was smart, and she could tell it was fighting Cas for control of him right now. She could see his jaw clenching, and he squeezed her hand painfully.

"What are you talking about, Dean?" Cas said in his quiet voice, and Gail knew he was fighting to hang on to his temper.

Dean frowned. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. But he'd been encouraged by Cas saying he needed help, and that's what they had been trying to do. And Cas had come here willingly, hadn't he? Why should they have to sneak around behind his back, then?

Sam was angry. Cas had no idea what they'd been going through to help him. It was high time he got a clue. "We're talking about busting our asses to help your sorry one," he said sharply.

Cas frowned, and his hand was squeezing Gail's so hard now that she winced. "Cas, either ease up or let go," she said to him. He looked at her, and his eyes were the dark purple now. Thanks, Dean, she thought.

Sam reached into his boot and took out the Demon knife he'd hidden there, slapping it on the table, just as Cas had slammed his blade down on Frank a while back. "Do it," he said to Cas.

Cas glared at Sam, but he let go of Gail's hand. He hadn't meant to hurt her; it's just that what he was hearing had made him angry. So they HAD been going around behind his back.

Sam had been about to rise from his chair, but he stood down when Cas let go of Gail. He left the Demon knife in front of him on the table, though. Let it serve as a deterrent for any more bad behaviour.

"Exactly what have you been doing?" Cas asked them.

Gail sighed. Well, it was out now. "I went to see Jason to find out what he knew," she told Cas.

He gazed at her. "I already told you he didn't know anything," Cas said, amazed. Didn't she trust him any more?

"I know you did, Cas," Gail said, sighing again. "That was when I figured out I had to talk to Metatron. So we went to see him."

Cas was astonished. He didn't know whether to be angry or impressed. "How did you do that?" he asked her. "And what do you mean, 'we'?"

"She got Crowley to take her," Sam said angrily. "And we didn't want her to go alone, so..."

"Let me guess," Cas said sarcastically, "you volunteered to go with her, right?" He could just bet that Sam had. Then he could be Gail's hero to Cas's villain. How convenient.

"Yeah, it just so happens I did," Sam retorted.

"So you took her hand and led her to Lucifer's cage," Cas said bitterly. So many emotions were doing battle inside him now. Anger that Gail had been sneaking around with them behind his back. Jealousy at the thought of Sam, trying to get in-between them. Horror at the thought of her going willingly to Lucifer's cage. And Crowley had taken her. He supposed it should be no surprise that his Brother had also stabbed him in the back. Now he knew why Crowley had encouraged him to take all those solo trips; he'd been trying to pry Gail away from him.

"At least if I held her hand, she wouldn't have to beg me to let it go," Sam shot back.

Cas was enraged now. Why had he ever said he would come here? Sam was lucky that Cas was trapped in this chair. Cas's dream was now forgotten. If he ever saw Sam trying to hold Gail's hand, he would kill him.

"Stop it," Gail said. It wasn't clear which of them she was talking to. "Sam didn't come with me to Hell, Cas. Dean did."

Cas looked at Dean. "YOU did?" he said.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Crowley said it could only be somebody who'd been a Demon."

"But you're a human now," Cas protested. "You'd have to be - "

" - dead," Dean finished for him. "I had Crowley kill me."

Cas's jaw dropped open. He couldn't believe it.

Gail put her hand on his arm. "You see? That's how much you mean to us. Keep fighting, Cas. You have a job here, too. You have to believe that you're someone worth saving."

Cas looked at her. Apparently, she did still love him, if she had been willing to go through that ordeal. But she was nuts. "How can I?" he said to her sadly. "I'm a monster."

"No, you're not," she told him. "You have a monster IN you. It's him we want to get rid of."

They were all silent for a moment, then Dean continued, "That was a lot of fun. Metatron and Lucifer are good-time guys. If I hadn't needed Crowley to bring me back, I might have had to kill him for putting Bobby in there."

"What was Lucifer like?" Cas asked Dean quietly. He had never met Lucifer, incredibly enough considering they had both been around since Creation.

Dean snorted derisively. Lucifer had been just another douchebag, in Dean's opinion. But then he didn't have to be locked up with the guy, did he? That would be a whole other ballgame, he was sure. Look at how Sam and Bobby had been when they came out.

"He was like you," Sam spat out.

Cas's heart sank, and he looked at Sam sadly. Gail reached out and took his hand again, and he let her hold it, but he didn't close his hand over hers and he didn't look at her. How could he? He could just imagine what Lucifer might have said to her. He felt sick.

"And Metatron gave us the ingredients he put in the potion, after Crowley did a number on him," Dean said. He'd grudgingly had to admire Crowley for that. They'd been getting nowhere until he had stepped in.

Cas was startled. "So you know what he put in the potion?"

"Yes, but then he told us that the only one who could tell us how to reverse the spell was the person who wrote the book in the first place," Gail said, frowning.

Cas may have been a lot of things now, but he wasn't dumb. "Rowena," he said.

"Rowena," Sam echoed. He was a little heartened by the way that Cas was acting now, but Cas had already shown signs of vacillating. Sam was willing to talk to him when he was being like this, but that didn't mean that he was forgiven. "And she's in the Netherworld. So we had to go make breakfast for Death so we could get his permission to talk to her." Sam would normally have joked that it was the special way that he and Gail had prepared the eggs that had swayed Death, but he figured he'd better not. He didn't want Demon Cas to have any more ammunition.

Cas was appalled. Gail had met with Death, on his behalf? He felt a wave of love for her that was so strong he was almost afraid of it. He didn't deserve her. She had gone through so much for him, and he had done nothing but brutalize her in return. He had her in his own Devil's Trap, and she'd had one foot out the door when he'd pulled her back by threatening suicide. Sam and Dean didn't know about that, of course, and she was sparing his pride by not telling them. He had never seen anything so selfless in his entire existence. He had to let her go. He couldn't let her go.

"Death gave Gail his permission," Dean said. "I think he liked her."

"Oh, boy, Death likes me," Gail quipped. "Won't all the girls be jealous."

She and the brothers laughed then, and that felt so good to Gail. When was the last time they had sat around this table and laughed together? When was the last time that she had even made a joke? She'd been losing herself in the pain and the fear, but that had to end now, or she was going to go crazy.

She looked at Cas, who had smiled a bit at what she'd said. But he didn't laugh. He didn't deserve to sit here with them, and he'd never felt less like laughing in his entire existence. When Gail opened her mouth again, he already knew what she was going to say.

"We're both staying here until we get the cure from Rowena," she said to Cas.

She had surprised him once again. He'd expected her to say she was leaving the house, and he knew it would be for the best. But she wanted him here, too?

Sam raised an eyebrow. He'd take Gail to the house and help her pack, but who said he wanted Cas here, too? Who needed a Demon running around the place? Were he and Dean supposed to sleep with one eye open?

"No," he said. "Gail's welcome, of course, but not him."

It hurt Cas to hear him say that, but he could understand. He knew what Sam was thinking, and Cas honestly couldn't promise that nothing would happen to them if he stayed here. The first time Sam put his hands on Gail, even if it was in the form of an innocent hug, Cas would lose it. He knew he would.

"Do you want me here or not, Sam?" Gail said to him sharply. "Because Cas and I are a package deal." She took Cas's hand again. He'd let go of her hand, feeling he didn't deserve to hold it. He let her take his hand, but he felt sick with self-loathing now. After everything he and his problems had put her through, she was still standing by him. She wasn't an Angel, she was a Saint.

Dean was frowning. He couldn't let her go back to that house again. But if they allowed Cas to stay here too, how could they make sure everyone was safe?

Gail looked at him. "You guys paint a Devil's Trap around the bed. I'll be able to come and go, and we can let Cas out if - "

"If what?" Dean said sarcastically. "If he needs to use the bathroom?"

"If I can show that I deserve to be let out," Cas said quietly. He actually thought that might work, and he knew that Gail could use the support of the brothers now. She couldn't fight Cas's Demon alone any more; it wasn't fair to expect her to go through that. Sam and Dean could help her, and they could help him, too, if they were willing. But were they? He was just a burden to them now, a liability.

Dean sat back in his chair and sighed. "I guess we could try it," he said hesitantly.

Sam wheeled on his brother angrily. "Dean. No," he said. "It's a bad idea."

"I'm sorry, guys," Gail said to them. "Take it or leave it." She really didn't want to be apart from Cas; his comment about suicide had scared her. She could read his face right now, and she knew how guilty he was feeling about everything. She couldn't leave him in that house alone. If he stayed here with them, Sam and Dean could help her watch him. And if the Demon came out in full force again, they could help to protect her, and each other. It was the ideal scenario, really. If you could call anything about this situation ideal.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Well, if she was going to put it that way, they really didn't have a choice, did they?

Dean stood. "Let's get started," he said to Sam, and they made their way down the hall.

Cas wouldn't look at Gail, and it was starting to frustrate her. He'd been very quiet, and she couldn't tell which one he was at the moment.

He was sitting on the bed, staring straight ahead at the wall, and though she'd paced back and forth looking at him, he wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, she was fed up enough to enter the Devil's Trap and approach him.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he said to her, and she stopped, looking at him warily.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I'm a monster," he said dully, still not looking at her.

She felt badly for him. "No, you're not," she said softly. "A horrible thing was done to you, but you're not horrible."

Gail wanted him to look at her, and she wanted to show him that she didn't think he was a monster. So she walked the rest of the way to the bed and climbed onto it with him, taking his face in her hands.

"Look at me," she said, and he finally did. His eyes were in-between, not light but not dark, either.

"I'm fighting, Gail," he told her.

"I know you are," she said softly.

"But you're not helping," he said with a faint smile. "I just want to..."

He put his arms around her and laid her down on the bed, rolling on top of her. "I just want to do this," he said, and he kissed her, opening her mouth with his tongue. She gave him hers, and his hands went under her clothes. Could they do this here? Should they? Probably not. But she wanted to.

"We'll have to be quiet," she told him.

He had her top off already, and he was kissing her bare skin gently. He smiled. "I can do that," he said.

Cas was being aggressive but gentle, and that was all she'd really ever wanted. It was hard to be quiet, though, when he was being like this. He was at his charming best now, and if this was the Demon part of him coming out to play, she didn't mind as long as it didn't hurt.

By the time his tongue got to her favourite place for it, she had clapped a hand over her mouth to hold in the sounds. The fact that she had to be quiet somehow made it more intense. Cas was smiling. He knew that, too. He sped up his tongue's motion. She deserved the maximum pleasure he could give her after the love and loyalty she had given him. He thought it was cute that she was trying to be quiet, but he didn't care. Let Sam and Dean hear; Sam, in particular. Then he'd know how happy Cas made her, and why she continued to choose him. Only he had what she needed.

Cas reached up and pulled Gail's hand away from her mouth. "You don't have to do that," he murmured. "Let it out. Look at me."

She did, and he stopped for a moment. "I love you," he said to her. "Let me show you how much." Then he resumed, slowly at first, teasing her. "Cas," she said. That was all right, but he could do much better than that. He pulled her closer to him and his tongue sped up. She was making her sounds now, lost in what he was doing. "Oh, Cas, it's so good!" she cried out, and then she was moaning, and she grabbed his head, keeping him there. He didn't mind. He intensified his efforts, and she rewarded him, crying out his name again.

He stayed there for a while after, loving the taste of her, and then he brought her body to him, slipping into her, enjoying the warmth of her. He was finding it hard to be quiet now, too. She was whispering how much she loved him and how good he felt inside her, and it was making him crazy. He groaned with pleasure. His hands were all over her, but he was not hurting her, as he had promised. And this was just as good; in fact, it was better. He could see her smiling and he could see how happy he was making her. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him in deeper, and he called out her name. She brought his face down to hers and she was kissing and licking his face, telling him how good it was. He tried to tell her he loved her, but he couldn't speak, it was so intense.

Cas rolled to the side, trying to catch his breath, and he put his arms around Gail, pulling her to him. He still couldn't speak, so he settled for caressing her with his hands. Her marks would heal now, and he would enjoy touching and licking every inch of her when they did. Never again. If he had known gentle was this good, he'd have never let the Demon be so rough in the first place. But that had been power and domination. This was finally love. The Demon had used Gail, and it had abused her when she'd submitted. But then she had pushed back, and he had pushed some more, but when all was said and done, Gail's love and Cas's newfound respect for her was prevailing. That wasn't to say that he would be above a little variety, but he would make sure she was on board with everything he wanted to do with her. And even though he still wanted to taste all of her, Cas vowed he would never take the blade to her again, or even try. The fact that she was here with him now, and that she had insisted he be here with her, had convinced him to put her above all else. If she said yes, it was yes; if she said no, it was a resounding no.

"I love you, and we will do whatever you say," he said to her now. "Both in here, and out."

She smiled. He'd said that before, but this time she thought he really meant it. "Ask me the question," she said softly.

He was puzzled for a moment, then he knew what she meant, and he smiled. "What do you need, Gail?"

"A whole lot more of this," she quipped, and they laughed together, then looked at each other in surprise. It had been way too long, and the simple fact that she could make him laugh after the way he'd been feeling about himself spoke volumes. Their relationship was not yet broken beyond repair; though he'd taken a sledgehammer to it many times in the past couple of weeks, it was Gail who had been standing by with the glue. And if she refused to give up on him, how could he give up on himself?

"And the cure," she said now. His smile faded then, but she wasn't going to allow him to feel sorry for himself any more. He still had too much fighting to do. So she added, "Maybe we'll only get you to drink only 95% of it, though." He looked at her, and she smiled mischeviously. She was unbelieveable. Demon or not, Cas had to thank God that He had sent Gail rolling off that truck and into this bunker that night. She was his whole reason for living now.

But Bobby could have told Cas that no one person can be the total cure for another person. Cas would just have to find that out the hard way, and so would Gail. It wasn't as simple as drinking a magic potion, not that that potion would be simple. Oh, no. That would be too easy. And when had things ever been easy for God's favourite children?

Chapter 4 - God, As We Understand Him

Crowley had been calling Castiel's cell phone for hours now, and it just rang and rang. No voice mail, even. Crowley rolled his eyes. They had both been around since Creation, but while Crowley had moved with the times, his Brother was still so old-fashioned in so many ways. How hard was it to set up a voice mail? And just where was Castiel, anyway?

They had to get moving on this seance thing so he could get his life back. He was growing tired of being a go-between; and while it had been satisfying in the short term, he was sick of Castiel's brutality, and his stupidity. He'd never thought he would miss Castiel the Angel, but he did now. He'd had respect for him then, even if he hadn't liked him very much. But now Crowley had grown to despise him, and he deeply regretted having messed with the status quo in the first place. And his feelings about Gail had become confusing again. Crowley felt sorry for her, but she was also an enabler, and she should have kicked Castiel out of the house and changed the locks by now. Metaphorically speaking, of course. The Gail he knew didn't suffer fools, and Crowley had always known her to think and act for herself. Even when she had been under Crowley's purview and influence, she had found the inner strength to run away before she got in too deep. So what was wrong with her now? What was he missing?

On the other hand, she had been relentlessly pursuing a cure without his Brother's knowledge, and she had bravely faced Death and gone to Lucifer's cage in her quest. Now she would have to go toe-to-toe with his mother, the woman who Gail had beheaded in his den. The witch who had made life so difficult for Gail when she had been alive, both overtly and behind the scenes. And his mother had had nothing but scorn for Angels. Gail was in for a real challenge there.

Impatient to get the ball rolling, Crowley picked up the phone again and called Sam.

"Where are the Angels?" Crowley demanded when Sam answered. Then he smirked. "Former Angels, I mean."

"They're here," Sam replied shortly.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. Interesting. "Why?" he asked.

"Cas knows about the cure," Sam replied. "Dean told him."

Crowley wasn't sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was glad that the burden of keeping his Brother distracted had apparently been lifted from him now. If Castiel knew what they were up to, there was no longer any need to give him make-busy things to do while the others snuck around behind his back. But Crowley couldn't imagine he would be too cooperative about it.

"How did he react?" Crowley asked Sam curiously.

Sam frowned. "We're not sure." And it was true. Gail had gone into Cas's room once he'd entered the area with the Devil's Trap, and she hadn't come out. And their friends had made it quite obvious what they were doing in there. He and Dean had been staying as far away from the room as they could, but the sounds carried, and the couple didn't seem to care. Sam had alternated between trying to block out the sounds and listening for any indication that Gail was being hurt. But the cries he'd heard from her didn't sound like cries of pain, and Sam was embarrassed and a little creeped out by this. They were all adults here, but it almost seemed like they were doing it on purpose. Was Cas trying to stake his territory? Sam no longer trusted Cas, and he didn't like the fact that he and Dean were being forced to play host to him. But Gail had insisted, and they couldn't have let her go back to that house.

But Sam didn't want to say any of this to Crowley. Instead, he said, "I called Oliver; he and I set up the seance for tomorrow. I guess you're off the hook now."

Good, Crowley thought. He was well shot of the lot of them. His designer suits were black, not white.

"How is she?" Crowley asked. The words had left his mouth before his brain had prevented him from saying them.

"What do you care?" Sam spat out. "This is all your fault, anyway. You put the Demon in Cas in the first place. Well, your little joke backfired, big time, and none of us are laughing."

Though Sam was right, more or less, Crowley felt defensive. "If Metatron hadn't been screwing around with something he knows nothing about, everything would have been fine. When they came to see me, Castiel was okay. He only had a little left, and all that would have done was make him tolerable to be around."

"Yeah, but I guess by the time you removed it all, it was already too late," Sam said wearily.

Crowley started to smile. Sam didn't know, did he? "But I didn't remove it," he told Sam smoothly. "They wanted it left in, so I agreed." OK, maybe that wasn't exactly how it had happened, but Crowley was not the King of Hell for no reason.

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But they said - "

"Then they lied, didn't they?" Crowley said happily. "Demons lie, Moose. We all do. Especially when it comes to something we really want. Apparently, Castiel was tired of being good, and Gail was looking for something other than just hand-holding with him. And she's been getting it, all right. And if there are a few bumps and bruises along the way, well..." He shrugged, even though Sam couldn't see him. "We are talking Demon, here."

Sam felt sick to his stomach. So, their friends had been lying to them this whole time. So many things made sense now. Dean had been right. Gail had been staying in that house with the thing that Cas had become because at least a part of her enjoyed what he did to her. Sam tried to remind himself that Gail had some Demon in her now too, courtesy of both Cas and Crowley, but it was hard to think of that. Once they got the cure, he and Dean would have to make sure they made her take it, as well.

"But don't worry, Sam," Crowley continued, as if reading Sam's mind, "once you pour the cure down their throats, she may be available again. Once she realizes what a beast Castiel has been to her, she may be ready for some tender loving care."

"Shut up, Crowley," Sam snapped. Why did the King of Hell have to take everything and make it sound so disgusting? Then again, the answer was in the question, wasn't it? But despite himself, Sam was thinking about what Crowley had just said. He might be right. Once Gail was rid of the Demon influence, she wouldn't be able to look at Cas in the same way. Did Sam want her to split up with Cas? Did he really want Gail for himself? A part of him did, if he was being honest with himself. She was smart, cute, and funny, and she deserved a guy who would treat her with love and respect. Up until recently, Cas had been that guy, but he had abused Gail and taken her for granted. Sam admired her loyalty when it came to Cas, but maybe it was time for her to step away. Even if Cas reverted to the Angel he had once been after the cure was administered, what Cas had been doing to her the past couple of weeks would always be something that would come between them. Sam wasn't the type of guy to steal a friend's girl, but he wouldn't be above providing some comfort if Gail were to come looking for it, either.

Crowley could practically hear the wheels spinning in Sam's head, and he continued to smile. Poor Moose. He had no idea how strong the bond created by blood-sharing could be. Human blood was weak, diluted. Demon blood was pure and powerful. And when the blood of an Original mixed with the blood of another, that bond was irrevocable. Gail had two parts of Castiel in her now, but she also had some of Crowley in there, too. If she were to reject Castiel and seek comfort from anyone, it would be from Crowley, not Sam. This thought made him smile even more. Let them pursue their cure. This story wasn't over; not by a long chalk.

"Good luck, Moose," Crowley said, and hung up.

Dean had had enough. He and Sam had been subjected to hearing the sounds coming out of that bedroom for most of the night, and when the morning came and there didn't seem to be any let-up, he stalked out of the kitchen and pounded on the door.

"Let's go, you two," he yelled, annoyed. "We need to talk."

"Give us a few minutes, Dean." Gail's voice, and she sounded amused.

"You've had all night." Dean raised his voice. "Give it a rest, already!"

"You're hardly one to talk." Now Cas's voice, and he sounded out of breath. He also sounded annoyed. "I know you, remember?"

OK, he might have a point there, Dean acknowledged. He'd had similar sessions in the past. The ones where you just wanted to hang a Do Not Disturb sign on the door and not come out all weekend. Regrettably, it had been way too long for Dean since that had happened. He'd have to fix that soon. But the fact that those two were doing God only knew what in there, steps away from him and Sam, kind of creeped him out. Gail had those marks on her for a reason. Like Sam, Dean had been half-listening for any shouts of pain from her, and he'd been prepared to intervene if he heard any. Even if what he saw would make him have to gouge his own eyes out. But she'd only sounded happy. Very, very happy. A small part of Dean was amused, but he mainly just wanted it to end. He was trying to suppress his anger at the couple now. Sam had told him what Crowley had said, and Dean was angry about their having lied right to everyone's faces. He had to remind himself that they weren't thinking clearly due to the Demon junk in their blood, and whatever Metatron's magic elixir had done, but still...It hurt, and Frank had been driven away by it. Dean liked Frank. They were both older brothers, taking on the role of protector and guardian to their younger siblings, and he and Frank had formed a bond on that basis. Frank had been bewildered by the change in Gail, and he and Cas had clashed on several occasions, to the point of violence. It was a rotten shame, but thank God Frank hadn't been around to see what had been happening between Cas and Gail, or to hear them right now. He would bust down the door to kick Cas's ass, and then Demon Cas would kill him. Dean had been wanting to pick up the phone and call Frank, to reach out. But really, what could he say? Frank would ask about Gail, and what was Dean supposed to say about that? How could he tell Frank how she was doing, when Dean didn't even know, himself?

Dean rolled his eyes. "Ten minutes," he said to the door. "Then I'm coming in there and kicking some ass." He wheeled and went back to the kitchen.

Gail looked up at Cas. "I do believe he's a little perturbed," she said, smiling. She'd been pleasuring him with her mouth and with her tongue, and Cas had been close when Dean had pounded on the door. Timing had never been that man's long suit, Cas thought, both annoyed and amused.

Then Dean had gone away, and Gail had resumed what she had been doing. Cas closed his eyes, and the good feeling came back immediately. He'd protested at first, feeling it was selfish, but she had pleaded soreness, so he had acquiesced. He didn't want her in any more pain. They had enjoyed each other in many different ways last night, but he had never hurt her, and he had never forced her into doing anything she hadn't been willing to do. This had been the best night ever, and Cas didn't want it to end. He just wanted to stay here with her forever, loving her as he was doing now. Gently and sensually, but without violence.

But he'd had to fight himself at times. She had willingly lain on her stomach at one point and allowed him to do it in the way the Demon seemed to prefer, but Cas had made sure that Gail was truly willing, and that she was ready for him this time. He'd had to fight not to grip her hips too hard in his excitement, but she had moved with him, helping him to keep calm. He had cuddled her in-between sessions, and they had talked, really talked to each other as true partners would, something they hadn't done in a long time. Then, when he had gotten excited again, he had positioned her on top of him so he could look at her face and caress her body as they moved together. Then another cuddle, then he had brought her up to his mouth and used his tongue again as she cried out with pure joy. And on and on it had gone, all night long.

Now she was doing the same for him, and he felt amazing. He looked down at her lovingly, and she seemed to sense it because she stopped what she was doing for a moment and looked back at him. "I love you, Cas," she said, and he felt warm all over. Then she started teasing him with her tongue, and though the Demon was impatient, wanting to grab her head and force it down, Cas made himself wait. She had done this before, and she knew what she was doing. And sure enough, when he was just about to lose his mind, she took him in her mouth again. He was moving with her now, and he closed his eyes once more, gasping. "Gail," he breathed, then he said her name again, louder. Gail smiled. They'd better wrap this up soon, or Dean would be back. After she'd been tentative that first time, wanting to be quiet, Cas had encouraged her to let it out, and now Gail wanted him to do the same. She sped up her motion and Cas cried out then, making her glad. She was happy to be making him so happy. He'd certainly made her feel very happy last night, and again this morning. She could tell that he was still fighting to restrain himself at times, but there had been no lessening of excitement on either of their parts that she could tell. In fact, from her point of view, it had been the best ever. When she had no reason to fear pain, she could just give herself over to the pleasure. When he had licked her all over last night, and again this morning, she actually had felt as though his tongue was healing all the marks on her body. And his treatment of her was healing her heart, as well. Gail hadn't realized how resentful she'd been becoming of his rough treatment of her until he'd reminded her of the difference by being so gentle now. His hands had touched her in all of the intimate places, then his mouth and his tongue had followed. He was firm but gentle, and she had cried out numerous times.

Cas was doing that now, telling her he loved her and that she was everything to him. And he meant it. Even after he was spent, and the moment of intensity was over, that was how he felt. He really believed he had the Demon contained now. Gail was the boss, not the Demon, and he owed her everything. When they were both cured, he was going to find the nicest cathedral in the world and have Bobby marry them in an official ceremony. His Father had already blessed their union, but Cas wanted it formalized anyway. He'd take Dean with him to pick out a ring, and he'd get down on his knees to ask her, in the traditional way. He'd be willing to spend the rest of his life on his knees before her if she'd only say yes.

They cuddled and kissed for a minute or two, then Gail said, "I'd better get us a change of clothes." She smiled. "In fact, maybe I'll just throw a few outfits into a suitcase. Even when we find out how to reverse the spell, it might take a day or so. And I don't know about you, but I could use a shower."

"Good idea," he said, kissing her on the forehead. "And maybe you want to get our blades, too.:

She looked at him sharply. His eyes were a very pale purple now, but hers narrowed. "Why would we want those?" she asked him.

Cas's heart sank. He didn't know why he'd suggested that, really. He'd just always had his blade with him, and he felt naked without it. As naked as he was right now, he thought, looking down at himself and smiling. He looked at Gail. And as naked as she was right now. But he'd better not go thinking of that, or Dean would likely be breaking the door down just in time to see Cas's head between her legs. Cas's smile grew wider. He'd prefer it was Sam. Then maybe Sam would give up on his pathetic fantasy. The Demon was trying to break through again, but Cas pushed it back. They'd both had their fun all night and again this morning, and there would be more to come. They could hardly ingratiate themselves with their hosts if they kept behaving this way. And Gail would make sure the Winchesters left him alone. This could still work out.

"We'll have Sam and Dean put the blades in the weapons room, and then they can lock the door," Cas said mildly. "We'll need them, afterwards."

Gail hesitated a moment longer, then she shrugged. She supposed there'd be no harm in that, since he put it that way. She kissed Cas once more, then got out of the bed. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she told him.

A moment later, Dean knocked on the door again. "Time's up," he announced.

Cas was amused. "You can come in if you want," he said, smiling. "But I have to warn you, I have no clothes on."

Dean rolled his eyes. Give him strength. "What about Gail?" he asked.

"She's gone to the house to get us some more clothes," Cas said. "She'll be back in a minute or two."

Good, Dean thought. A chance to talk to Cas alone, see where his head was at. He turned the knob and entered the room. At least they hadn't locked the door. He really hadn't wanted to have to break it down.

Cas was sitting up in bed, bare-chested, but he had the covers pulled up around his waist. Not that Dean cared; he'd seen Cas in various states of undress before. But Dean looked down on the floor and saw the clothes Gail had been wearing the night before. Had she left here naked? Well, it was her house and nobody would be there, so he supposed she could do what she wanted. But maybe she was wearing her underwear; he hadn't seen any laying on the floor. Then he shook his head. Yuk. Who wanted to think about that? She was like his sister, and this whole thing was just too weird to begin with.

Like the sight of a half-naked Cas on a bed with a Devil's Trap underneath it, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. Man, you knew you were having a dry spell when a guy like Castiel was getting more action than you were, Dean thought dryly. He had decided to try to find that amusing, so it wouldn't drive him nuts. Too bad Sammy couldn't do the same.

"How are you, Cas?" Dean asked him. It was a potentially loaded question, but that was kind of the point.

"I'm very happy, Dean," Cas said, still smiling.

Yeah. Dean could just bet that he was.

"When Gail gets back, tell her to come to the kitchen," Dean said to Cas. "We've got the appointment set up." He paused for a moment, then added, "You can come too, if you feel..." He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. Non-Demonlike?

"That'll be up to Gail to decide," Cas said evenly. It was all up to her now. He was leaving himself in her hands.

Dean looked at him a moment longer, opening his mouth, then closing it again. He turned and walked back to the door, then turned around. "I'm leaving this open," he said, gesturing to the door. "Hurry it up."

Cas smiled again. Likely a smart move on Dean's part. But if Gail popped back in here naked, Cas couldn't be held responsible.

Gail had realized she was naked as soon as she'd reappeared in the bedroom of the house. Then she shrugged. Oh, well. Nobody was here, and it wasn't as if she hadn't been naked here many, many times. In fact, it was convenient. She really wanted that shower, and if she moved quickly, there was no reason she couldn't have it here. She'd always hated showering in other people's places, anyway.

Her body still looked like a road map, but it was very nice showering without any fresh marks on her, and she was in less pain already now than she'd been in yesterday. A big part of that might be the lightness of her heart right now. She felt like she and Cas had turned a corner. She'd always known he was a warrior, and he was fighting well now. She sang a couple of her favourite songs at the top of her lungs in the shower, then did a couple of dance moves while she was drying herself. Hey, it was her house, wasn't it? And it had been kind of nice to have a few moments here to herself. She wasn't stupid; she knew that she and Cas had been rather expressive at times last night and again this morning, and she was sure that Sam and Dean would have heard at some point. She and Cas would be facing their disapproving stares this morning, she was certain. But she and Cas were happy right now. She'd hardly seen any Demon in him since they'd gotten to the bunker, so Sam and Dean would just have to lighten up.

Gail dressed, then she put the suitcase on the bed and packed some more of her clothes and some of Cas's. That would hold them for now. She looked around the room. Did she need anything else? Her eyes fell on the nightstand, and she realized she hadn't seen her photo there when she'd taken the blade and Cas's cell phone off of it. She hadn't had the chance to think about it further then, but now that she was thinking of it, she really wanted that photo. She wanted to take it with her to the bunker and put it on the nightstand beside the bed she and Cas were now sharing there. She had done that so often before, when they had both been Angels. Jason had cruelly destroyed the original photo just before Cas's execution, but then when Cas had been God that day, he had arranged for the two of them to pose for another, knowing how much it had meant to her. Well, he was about as far away from God as you could get right now, but the photo could serve as a talisman, a reminder of how things used to be, and would be again.

She walked to the nightstand and looked around it. Then she started to panic. Where was it? She and Cas had been the only ones here. Demon Cas had better not have done anything with it, or she would have to kick its ass before she sent it packing. A little payback. Too bad the Demon currently happened to be residing in the body of the man she loved. That was how she had started to think of them now: Demon Cas, and her Cas. It was a matter of self=preservation, really. If Cas faltered, she would try to compartmentalize, so that she could try to continue to love him even if he ended up hurting her again. Otherwise, their relationship could be irrevocably damaged when all this was over. Well, that was the plan, anyway.

Gail looked on the floor behind the nightstand and she saw the photo laying there. Excitedly, she grabbed the nightstand and pulled it away from the wall. It was heavier than it looked, and the effort hurt her. She sighed. Just because she hadn't suffered anything new recently didn't mean she was healed. It would take time. And she had forgotten to unplug the lamp that had been sitting on top of the nightstand, and it now came crashing down to the floor. Great. She'd lost a lot of her dignity lately, and it appeared as though some of her brain cells had gone along with it. But she'd just wanted her photo so bad. It didn't belong there on the floor.

She picked it up and blew the dust off it, then wiped it on her pants for good measure. She looked at it for a moment, smiling warmly, then brought it over to the suitcase and put it under a layer of clothes. But there was one more thing...Oh, yeah. The blades. She remembered where she'd put Cas's, but where was hers? She checked the shelves in the closet and found it under some towels. When had she put it there, and why did it look like it had been hidden?

Gail shrugged, then threw it in the suitcase. She went down to the kitchen to retrieve Cas's, threw it in the suitcase too, then snapped the suitcase shut. She was about to pop back to the bunker when she noticed that the light bulb from the lamp had smashed when the lamp had fallen to the floor. There were jagged pieces of broken glass there, and she just couldn't leave it like that. What if she forgot about it and she and Cas came back here? One of them could step on the glass and be hurt. So she walked over and started gathering it up with her bare hands. Bad idea. She cut herself on one of the shards, and she started to bleed immediately. Crap. She knew they didn't have anything here to deal with it; they had both been Angels when they had moved in here. Who needed first aid kits when you had each other? Cas could heal her when she got back to the bunker.

So she grabbed the suitcase and disappeared, reappearing in the bedroom at the bunker.

She set the suitcase down on the floor and walked over to at Cas, extending her hand. "I have an owie. Can you fix me up?" she asked him lightly.

But she'd forgotten. He stared at her hand, then he looked up at her. He grabbed her hand, but instead of healing it, he brought it to his lips and licked the blood. The covers fell from his waist and she could see that he was excited. Cas stood, putting his arm around her. He pulled her to him, and now he was sucking the blood from her hand, making a contented noise.

"Don't, Cas," she said, but of course, he was already doing it. His grip on her tightened, and then he did stop. He licked the blood from his lips and murmured, "You taste so good. All of you does." He grabbed the back of her hair and brought her head to his mouth, forcing his tongue into her mouth. He was pushing himself against her body and he tried to shove his other hand down her pants. But she didn't want to taste her own blood, and he was getting a bit rough, so she pushed him away and quickly backed up from him. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was bleeding, trying to do it again, and she wrenched it away. Terrific. Now her wrist hurt, too.

"Stop it, Cas!" she shouted. Maybe if she was more forceful, he would listen.

But then she heard the footsteps running down the hall, and she looked in that direction. Dammit! The door was wide open, and Sam and Dean had obviously heard her.

They came charging into the room. "What's going on?" Dean demanded. "What are you doing to her?" Sam yelled.

"It's nothing," Gail said quickly. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it." She really didn't want to tell them about this. She'd forgotten that the whole reason Cas had wanted to bring his blade into the bedroom in the first place was that he'd wanted to taste her blood. That was what had happened on Christmas Eve, when he had been so wild after he and Dean had gotten back from the Demon den. She'd repressed it due to her embarrassment and horror, but the fact was, he had taken his blade to her that night and inflicted a few cuts on her body with it so he could lick the blood from her as they were having sex. He'd been so crazy that night, and she had submitted because everything else he'd been doing to her had felt so good. She was as much to blame for the shape she'd been in the next day as Cas was, no matter what Dean might say. The instant she'd felt that first cut and seen the blood, she should have wrestled the blade from him and cut HIM with it. See how HE liked it. But she hadn't, and that was her secret shame. She'd come to her senses after he'd fallen asleep and she'd left him after realizing how badly he'd actually hurt her, but the fact remained that his Demon had fed on her, and she'd let him do it.

"What do you mean, 'it's nothing'?" Sam said angrily. "You're bleeding!" He strode forward and grabbed Gail's arm. Now Sam was manhandling her, too. Great. She looked at Dean. "You want to get in on this?" she snapped at him. "I don't have enough bruises on me, apparently!"

They all froze, looking at each other, and Sam took his hand off Gail's arm as if it were red-hot. What had he been thinking? He was as bad as Cas. He'd just been so angry that she was defending Cas, when he'd obviously hurt her in some way.

Cas reached out and took Gail's hand in both of his, but gently, and he healed her wound. He felt sick to his stomach. What was the matter with him? She'd been hurt, and she had needed his help, and instead he had...Dear God.

Dean strode over to the suitcase and grabbed it. He steered Gail outside the Devil's Trap with the other hand. "Go into the kitchen with Sam," he told her. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again when she realized she didn't know what that could be. "Go," Dean said in a softer tone. "Please."

Gail left the room and headed for the kitchen, and Sam trailed silently behind.

Dean bent down to the suitcase and snapped it open, rummaging around until he found a shirt and a pair of pants for Cas. "Get dressed," he said, throwing the clothes at Cas. He looked at the wall, watching Cas out of the corner of his eye to make sure he was complying. Dean didn't want to look at Cas's face right now, and he sure as hell didn't want to look at anything else. He'd seen Cas's excited state when they'd first come in, and he'd also noticed the red stains on Cas's mouth. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Dean felt like he was going to throw up. Metatron had obviously thrown some vampire into the mix, and Cas was not just a Demon. So that was why he'd been bringing the blade into their bedroom, and why Gail was in such severe pain. Holy God.

"Where'd you get the weapon?" Dean asked Cas sharply. "She give it to you?"

Cas paused in the act of buttoning up his shirt. "Weapon? What weapon?"

Dean did look at Cas then, and his glare was penetrating. "Don't act innocent with me," he growled. "The blade you used to cut her with." God. The bile was forming in his mouth from saying it out loud.

"I didn't cut her, Dean," Cas protested. He knew how it must look, but he was innocent for a change. Well, of that particular charge, anyway. "She was cut when she came back."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean retorted. "And how was that supposed to have happened?" He was thinking of those Lifetime movies, too. I fell down the stairs. I walked into a door. Not that he'd ever be caught dead ever watching one of those movies, of course. But you heard stuff.

"I don't know," Cas said in a subdued voice. That disturbed him. She'd come back bleeding, and he had never even bothered to find out why.

Cas's lips were still red, and now that he had covered himself up, that was all Dean could seem to focus on. He rummaged around in the suitcase again, hoping to find something that Cas could wipe his mouth on so Dean wouldn't have to keep looking at it. Dean's hand touched the blades, and he took them out of the suitcase, showing them to Cas. "You don't know," he said sarcastically.

"Look at them, Dean," Cas pointed out. "You'll see they're clean."

Dean scrutinized both blades. OK, they were.

"I honestly don't know how she got cut, Dean, but it didn't happen here, and I didn't do it. I swear to you."

Dean continued to stare at him. "You need to clean yourself up," he said with disgust.

Cas was puzzled for a moment, then he realized what Dean must be talking about, and he was embarrassed.

"Can you let me out so I can use the washroom, then?" Cas asked Dean, avoiding eye contact. "I could use a shower, anyway."

Dean sighed, then he pointed one of the blades downward and squatted, scraping the paint on the outer edge of the Devil's Trap.

"Oh, and just so you know, I asked Gail to bring the blades to give to you and Sam so you could lock them up in the weapons room," Cas said. "You can ask her, if you don't believe me."

"Don't worry, I will," Dean said irritably, continuing to scrape. He'd be asking her about more than a few things.

When he was done, Dean stepped back from the circle, jerking his head at Cas. "Go. Use the towels that are in there." Cas started to leave the room, but Dean grabbed his arm. Dean kept his eyes away from Cas's mouth. "I'll be standing right outside the bathroom until you're done. And I am packing, in case you're wondering. I'm just not telling you where."

Cas nodded. Fair enough. That was actually pretty smart of Dean. If you told your enemy where on your body the weapon was secreted, that would be the first place he would go for.

Just before Cas closed the bathroom door, Dean stopped it with his hand. "And I'd better not see anything on those towels. And I do mean, anything."

Cas nodded again, but after Dean allowed him to close the door, he smirked. You could tell that Dean had been a Demon, all right. He certainly thought like one. Cas may be a beast now, but he was no animal. He'd been excited before, but the wind had been taken out of his sails, metaphorically speaking, when the brothers had intruded. He was OK now; he'd just had a brief moment of weakness. But he had lived up to his promise. He hadn't cut Gail; she truly had just shown up bleeding, for some apparent reason. It wasn't his fault, and he couldn't help it that the sight of it had excited him so much that he'd just had to do it. She let him taste her everywhere else; what was the big deal? It's not like he had caused it. He wished he and Gail had been at the house. He'd had his little taste, and he'd been prepared to make her so happy afterwards. She would have let him, too, if the brothers hadn't interrupted them. She had willingly lain on her stomach for him last night, and she had loved it. So they were going to lock the blades up because that simp Castiel said they could? No matter. There were other ways. He looked at his fingernails. Damn. Too short. Then he had an idea. He opened the medicine cabinet and there it was. A package of razor blades. He removed one and put it in his pants pocket, then ran the shower and undressed, humming.

Dean heard Cas humming in the shower and he frowned. What was that bastard so happy about? He rushed to the bedroom and turned everything upside down. He even looked under the mattress and under the bed, but there was no sign of anything that could be used as a weapon. He'd collapsed the blades and put them in his pockets, but Dean had checked them carefully, and they were as clean as a whistle.

He waited for Cas to come back out. He'd take him to the kitchen afterwards, so Sam could tell him and Gail about the seance. Maybe they'd better take Cas with them. Even with the Devil's Trap, Dean didn't trust Cas. Demons were sneaky bastards, and Cas had always been very resourceful. And now he was part vampire, apparently. Could he turn into a bat, or something? No, that was ridiculous. Dean had seen too many movies. He'd also seen many real-life vampires. Dean had even been friends with one when he and Cas had been trapped in Purgatory. They'd been on the same side then, fighting evil together, but now Cas had become the evil that Dean had to fight. They'd better get the cure soon, or this was going to tear their relationship apart. If Dean ever witnessed Cas cutting Gail, Dean would kill him, and then he would kick his vessel's ass, just for good measure.

Sam had taken a dishcloth and he wet it at the sink, then he brought it to Gail. "You have a little - " he gestured to her mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Gail looked at him blankly, and then she realized what Sam was getting at. Cas had kissed her after he had sucked the blood from her hand, and she had gotten some transfer. It wouldn't be the first time. She wiped her mouth with the washcloth. How embarrassing.

But she didn't want any on there, or Sam was going to continue looking at her that way, so she said, "Did I get it?"

"Not all of it," he replied. "You have some - " he gestured. Then he gave up. "Just let me do it. Please."

So she gave him the washcloth and he put his hand gently on her face to steady it as he wiped her mouth. "There," he said, as if talking to a child. "All gone."

Then he looked in her eyes, but Gail looked down at the floor. "Thanks," she said.

"How long has this been going on?" Sam asked her quietly. Did he even want to know?

Gail was uncomfortable. "Does it really matter?" she said, laughing shortly.

Sam considered. He supposed it didn't, not from her point of view, anyway. It was disgusting, and it was wrong, but so were many other things Cas had been doing to Gail. She didn't have only blade cuts on her body, he knew. Jody had been pretty explicit when she'd told Sam about all the marks that Gail had on her body, and Jody had a cop's eye for detail.

"OK, never mind," Sam said. "The important question is, how did he hurt you this time? Does he have a weapon?"

"No," Gail assured him. "I cut myself at the house right before I came back. It was a stupid accident, Sam, that's all."

"Well, when we heard you yell, and we saw you bleeding, we just assumed..." Sam started to say.

"I know," she said sadly. "You just assumed Cas had done it to me. Pretty pathetic, isn't it? Who would have thought my life would become a Lifetime movie?"

Sam took her hands in his, and he said, "I'm sorry I grabbed you like that, Gail."

"That sounds exactly like a line you would hear in one of those movies," Gail tried to quip, but the joke fell flat. No matter what kind of spin she attempted to put on it, there was nothing remotely funny about it. She thanked God that Frank wasn't here to see this. It had better be over soon. Frank was going to call or show up here sooner or later, and she was going to have one hell of a lot of explaining to do. That was, if Cas didn't kill her first.

"Why did you and Cas lie to us?" Sam asked, but he continued to use his quiet voice. Though he was angry about that, he'd already yelled at her and manhandled her today. He didn't want to add bullying to the list.

"What do you mean? About what?" she asked innocently, but her mind was racing. He could be talking about any one of a number of things, unfortunately.

"About Crowley," Sam replied, frowning. "You told us that Crowley had taken all the Demon out of Cas. But Crowley told me last night you guys asked him to leave it in."

She was tempted to make some kind of retort about Crowley, but what was the use? They were both guilty as, well, hell. How could she explain their thought process at the time, when she didn't really understand it even now?

She sighed. "I don't know, Sam. We didn't know about Metatron's little surprise then, and we just thought...it's complicated," she finished lamely.

"So you did ask him to leave it in?" Sam persisted.

"Yeah," she admitted, avoiding his eyes again.

Sam let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "Remember your English Lit from college?" he asked her. "'Never open the door to a lesser evil, for other and greater ones invariably slink in after it'," he quoted.

But she was looking at him strangely now. "What do you mean, remember my English Lit? I never went to college, Sam. I never even went to high school. I was on the road with Frank. You know that."

Sam was surprised at himself. Yes, of course he knew that. He was the one who had gone to college, at least briefly, until Dean had come and gotten him and set them on the road. He must be confusing her with himself. But, even stranger, he had never taken English Lit. He must have just read that quote somewhere. But it certainly applied to this situation. For some reason, the two of them had thought it would be OK to have a little Demon in Cas, and now look at the mess they were in.

Gail was thinking along the same lines. That thing about English Lit had been strange, but she appreciated an apropo quote when she heard one. She and Cas had been crazy to think that what they'd allowed to stand was acceptable, Metatron or no Metatron.

"Why did you do it?" Sam asked. He didn't mean to badger her, but he couldn't help himself. He was mystified.

"It just seemed like there would be benefits," Gail answered vaguely.

"Well, I can tell you're still an Angel from that answer," Sam teased lightly, and she rewarded him with a thin smile.

"What do you want me to say, Sam?" she said, shrugging. "Crowley sold us a bad bill of goods. We were duped. End of story." It was certainly not even close to the end of the story, but she didn't feel like telling Sam everything. Like she'd said, it was complicated.

"Was it the sex?" Sam said suddenly.

She looked at him sharply. "What do you mean? Spit it out, Sam. What are you trying to say?"

"I know he's an Angel, and Angels can't - " Sam faltered, then tried again. "Angels aren't supposed to - " She looked at him sharply again. Boy, for such a smart guy, he was sure screwing this up. But he'd better forge ahead before he lost his nerve. "You know, if you have needs, there are other guys who can satisfy them, Gail," Sam finished quietly.

She didn't know whether to laugh, or not. There it was. Finally. It had taken him long enough. "Would one of those guys be in this room, Sam?" Gail said dryly.

He almost looked behind himself; then Sam realized she was using her go-to tactic. He knew her very well now, too.

"Maybe," he admitted sheepishly. "Look, I know you think you love him, and I know he says he loves you, but it doesn't look like love from where I'm sitting. That's all I'm trying to say."

Gail understood. It wouldn't, not from Sam's point of view, and especially not lately. She leaned forward and kissed Sam softly on the cheek. "I appreciate you for everything you are, Sam," she told him. "We've got to find somebody for you. It's a crime to let all that wonderfulness go to waste." She smiled at him. She hoped he wasn't too upset with her, but she'd made her choice that first night and she was sticking by it, for better and for worse. Castiel was her mate, and as tempting as Sam was making it right now, she loved Cas too much to ever contemplate being with anyone else. Maybe, in an alternate universe, things would have worked out differently.

Then Dean and Cas entered the kitchen, and Sam saw Gail look at Cas. Cas came to her and sunk to his knees, bowing his head. She turned his face up to look at her, and his eyes were sad. "It's OK, Cas, I forgive you," she said, and she touched his face.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Wow. Cleopatra, Queen of Denial. Time to talk about the meeting with Oliver before they lost their minds, too.

So they all sat down like civilized people, but the brothers were watching Cas the whole time. Was he the lion now, or the lamb?

"Oliver said we can come whenever we're ready," Sam said. "I gave him an indication of what we need to accomplish, but nothing else. He said he's never pierced the veil before, but he seemed to know what I was talking about, so I took that as a good sign."

"I've got Rowena's spell book on the table in the library, and the list of ingredients Metatron told Crowley he added to the love spell marking its place in the book," Dean confirmed. He was all business now, too. It was time to get this done, before somebody in this house ended up killing somebody else. He looked at Gail. "A decision's been made. Cas is going with us."

"Only if you say it's all right," Cas hastily said to her. Sam looked at him. Playing the lamb right now. Smart choice, after what had just happened.

Gail shrugged. Why not? Maybe he could use his considerable powers of persuasion on Rowena. She was a female, wasn't she? God knew he'd been able to wheedle Gail into doing some things against her better judgement. Maybe that Demon tongue could come in handy. Gail had certainly been the beneficiary of its talents many times. She smiled. If she was going to deal with evil, she supposed it couldn't hurt to think evil thoughts.

"Let's go, then," Dean said. He just wanted to get this done.

They all rose and started down the hall, stopping at the door which led to the garage.

"Wait here," Dean told them. "I have to go get the book."

"I want to do something, too," Gail said. "I'll be quick," she told Dean, who was frowning.

Gail and Dean walked down the hallway, and she stopped at her and Cas's room. She wanted to get her photo out of the suitcase and put it on the nightstand. After that little scene here earlier, she needed a reminder of why they were putting themselves through all this. But when she slowly knelt on the floor in front of the suitcase, she couldn't find it. She started to panic again.

"What are you looking for, Gail?" Dean said quietly from behind her.

She turned to look at him. "I had a picture in here," she told him.

"You mean that one?" he asked Gail, pointing behind her.

She turned back around and saw where he was pointing. There was her photo, already propped up on the nightstand.

"When Cas came out of the shower, he took that out of the suitcase and put it up there," Dean said.

Gail felt a wave of love for Cas then. She hadn't been too happy with him when he'd done what he did here earlier. She knew it was part of what he had become, but it was disgusting, and he'd embarrassed her in front of Sam and Dean. But for him to have done that, knowing how much that photo meant to her? It signified to her that the photo, and what it reprtesented, meant something to him still, too. She was nervous about what they were about to do, but they were surely on the right track now. They could work together to get the cure, and then they would take it, together.

She rose and went back out into the hall, following Dean to the library. He scooped the spell book from the table, checking to make sure the list of ingredients was still inside. He snapped the book shut, nodding, and then his eyes raised to look at Gail.

"I was hoping you weren't looking for the blades," Dean said bluntly.

"Why would I be looking for those?" Gail asked him, puzzled.

"How did you get cut, Gail?" he asked her pointedly.

What was he trying to say? "I cut myself on some broken glass at the house, Dean," she told him. "It was an accident."

He continued to gaze at her, and she was getting annoyed now. "What?" she asked him.

"I just don't want you giving him any weapons," Dean said steadily.

Now Gail was getting it. "You mean to use on you? Or to use on ME?" she said angrily.

Dean was uncomfortable, and he felt sick. But it was time somebody said it. "You can't let him feed on you, Gail. It'll only make things worse." He hated saying this to her, but now that he had started, he meant to get his point across. "Look, I know, consenting adults and all that crap, but there are plenty of things you can - " he swallowed, powering through it, " - plenty of things you can do with him that aren't, you know, sick and disgusting. Well, maybe a little disgusting, if you do them right," he concluded, with a bit of a smile. He knew he was being heavy-handed with her, and Dean was certainly no one to lecture anyone on morality, so he'd wanted to finish on a bit of a light note. But she had to understand how serious this could potentially be. You didn't willingly feed a monster; if you did, it would only be encouraged to prey on you more.

Gail was appalled at what Dean was saying, and she was angry, too. "I don't let - " she started to say. But then she stopped. What about Christmas Eve? She sighed, and tears prickled her eyes. "OK, I did, once. But it hurt, and it was wrong, and I've been telling him that ever since. He can't help it, Dean. But we've fought about it, and I stood my ground. Never again. I promise."

Dean walked up to her and took her in his arms for a hug. "I just want you to be OK, Gail," he said softly. "And I want him to be OK, too."

She hugged him back, holding on tight for a moment, squeezing the tears out of her eyes. Then she stepped out of the embrace and looked at him.

"Disgusting, huh?" she said with a small smile.

"If you do them right," he repeated, raising an eyebrow to her.

They smiled at each other, then she touched his face for a moment, almost as she would have done with Cas. "I really love you, Dean. You know that, right?"

He sighed, but he was still smiling. "Yeah, I know."

"And we'll all love Cas again, once he's cured," Gail added. She took Dean's other hand, the one not holding the book, and tugged him towards the hallway. "Let's go."

Dean let her lead him by the hand, but he was preoccupied now. That had been a curious way to put it, but he knew what she meant. It was hard to remember that Cas was in there sometimes, when the Demon was looking at you.

That was the feeling that Sam was experiencing now. Cas was staring at him with those weird purple eyes.

"What were you doing with Gail in the kitchen, Sam?" Cas asked him quietly.

"What do you mean? We were just talking," Sam said carefully.

"Did you touch her?" Cas said, and his voice was so quiet now Sam almost had to strain to hear him.

Sam hadn't wanted to start anything, but after the stunt Cas had just pulled, he should hardly be the one going on the offensive.

"I consoled her," Sam said vaguely.

Cas stepped closer to Sam. "How?" he asked through his teeth, and his eyes darkened.

But Sam wasn't going to let Cas intimidate him. "The usual way," he said casually. He knew he was riling the Demon up, but he didn't care. Cas had no weapon and no powers here, and Sam had been looking for an excuse for a long time.

Castiel was trying to fight the Demon, but the Demon was convincing him that Sam was trying to romance Gail right out from under him. He should be focusing on how much he loved her and trusted her, but the Demon was reminding him that she had been sneaking around with the Winchesters and Crowley behind his back. He tried to focus on the wonderful night and morning of love that he and Gail had just shared, but all he could think of was grabbing her poor injured hand and licking the blood from it, and God help him, the Demon wanted to do it again. She'd let him do it to her that one night, multiple times, and it had been the most intense experience of his life. But then she had left him and had come here to the bunker, and even when she had willingly come back to him, she'd told him he wasn't allowed to do it to her any more. He put two and two together. Sam had obviously told her it was disgusting. That was why she'd said what she said to Sam when they'd first arrived here yesterday. And she had only resisted this morning because the door to their room was open, and Sam might see.

"You need to stay out of our business," Cas said to Sam. "Gail loves what I do to her. I'm sure you heard evidence of that last night, and again this morning."

Sam laughed derisively. "So you're telling me she likes walking around in pain all the time? She doesn't love you. She's afraid of you."

Cas punched Sam in the face, and Sam staggered back against the wall. He kept his feet, but he touched his face gingerly. He'd bitten his lip and it was bleeding, and his hand came away with blood on it.

"Here, you want blood so bad?" Sam said sarcastically. "Then take mine. Leave hers alone."

Cas was angry, but he was also confused. He didn't want Sam's blood, he only wanted Gail's. "What would I want with your blood?" he asked Sam scornfully.

"What would you want with any blood?" Sam retorted. "What's the matter with you, Cas?"

That made Cas pause. He didn't really know. Why did he crave Gail's blood so much? It was unnatural, and it was wrong. Everything else they did together was so amazing. Why did he have to keep pushing her? He was going to push her right out of his life if he kept this up.

Dean and Gail approached them then, and they saw Sam's face. Both of them looked at Cas, who was avoiding their gaze.

"What happened here, Cas?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. Just a little debate," Sam said calmly. He looked at Cas. "Next time, I'll be offering my rebuttal." Sam was making his point. Cas had gotten one free shot, but that would be it. Let him try that again.

Dean sighed. "Let's go."

Oliver opened the front door to Sam. "Hi, Sam," he greeted him. Oliver wasn't smiling, but he seemed affable enough. Well, for him, anyway. He was a bit of a curmudgeon, generally speaking. But Sam had used him a couple of times, and Oliver seemed to know what he was doing.

"All right, come in, then," Oliver said to Sam. He guarded his privacy jealously, and he hated people coming into his house. Which posed a bit of a dilemma, considering he worked from home. Conducting seances didn't exactly pay too many bills, though, so Oliver had to supplement his income, seeing people to give psychic readings, and selling occult paraphernalia on the side. But he did know Sam, at least. And Sam had intrigued him with his latest phone call. Oliver had never had the occasion to pierce the veil before, and he wanted to see if he could do it.

Sam stepped into the foyer, and Dean followed him, looking around.

"Who's this?" Oliver asked Sam.

"He's my brother," Sam replied. "It's OK, Oliver. He's all right."

Oliver gave Dean a quick glare, but then he turned away from him and looked at Gail, who was stepping hesitantly across the threshhold.

Oliver put up his hand, and she stopped. He regarded her curiously. "And just what are you?" he asked her.

She noticed he hadn't said "who", he'd said "what". And she realized she didn't really have an answer to that question right now.

"She's an Angel," Sam said.

"An Angel," Oliver repeated skeptically. "Really? You think so?" He peered closer at her face. "I'm not buying it."

Gail was uncomfortable under his close scrutiny. "OK, not one hundred percent," she admitted. "But, mostly." She hoped that was still true.

Oliver continued to stare at her, then he threw up his hands. "All right. If Sam will vouch for you, you can enter," he said without enthusiasm.

"I will," Sam said firmly.

Gail sidled past Oliver and scurried over to Dean, almost as if she were afraid of the medium. And she was, a bit. He had just looked at her and known right away there was something wrong with her. Was it that apparent, or did this guy just have a special gift?

Then Cas was on the threshhold, and Oliver said, "No. No way."

Gail's heart sank. Yeah, Oliver knew, all right.

Oliver reached into his pocket and took out a vial of clear liquid, and Cas eyed him warily.

"You cannot enter," Oliver said, staring Cas in the face.

Cas was equal parts annoyed and amused. Should he be offended here? "Why not?" he said, trying to smile. "I'm here for the same reason they are."

"I know what you are," Oliver replied evenly, holding up the vial for Cas to see. "Get thee behind me, and get your ass away from my house."

Gail rushed forward. "We're here to get the cure for him," she appealed to Oliver. "And for me, too," she added in a more subdued tone.

Oliver looked at Cas's strange purple eyes, which were focused on Gail. "Oh, I get it," he said to them. He faced Cas again. "You need to stop," he said to Cas.

"Stop what?" Cas asked him. The Demon was trying to rise up now. Who the hell did this human think he was?

"Stop everything," Oliver said sternly. Then it all came pouring out, as if he were momentarily in a trance. "The torture, the bloodletting, the violence, the vampirism. The rough sex. The lessons with the King of Hell." Incredibly, Oliver crossed himself then, even though he was an atheist. "You will burn for eternity, and though she is not yet hell-bound, she will be, before long." Then Oliver seemed to come out of his trance, or whatever the hell he had been in. He turned around to Sam. "He leaves, or the deal is off."

Sam was dismayed, and Gail was panicked. What did he mean, the deal was off? It couldn't be off; she needed the deal to be on, so they could talk to Rowena. "Then he'll leave," she said quickly. She looked at Cas apologetically. She hoped he'd understand. She'd just have to wink him back to the bunker, then come back here. She put her hand on Oliver's arm, but he looked at her distastefully, so she quickly removed it.

"I know about his thirst for you," Oliver told her, and his gaze was penetrating. "And I know you let him do it."

Oh, God. That's what she got for touching a psychic, she thought. Shouldn't she of all people know better? That was what she used to do to people. And she had so many shameful secrets now.

Cas stepped forward. "Don't speak to her that way," he said to Oliver, raising his voice. "That's not her fault."

Oh, isn't it? the little voice in Gail's head piped up.

"I told you, get back!" Oliver shouted. Cas reached out for Oliver and he cringed. He didn't want to read what was going on inside this Thing's head. The girl thought she loved It, but It was more malevolent than she knew.

He unscrewed the cap of the vial and splashed the holy water on Cas. Cas hissed in pain and stepped back.

Dean and Sam watched soberly. It's not as if they hadn't known, but this visual aid was something they could have done without. Cas had managed to block his face in time, but his hands were smoking, the skin there corroded, and starting to bleed.

Gail grabbed Sam and Dean by one hand each and pulled them towards the doorway where Cas stood, and now it was him who was cringing before Oliver. "We'll be outside," she said to Oliver tartly, and then she said, "Let's go, Cas."

He turned and left the house, and Gail pulled the Winchesters behind him. They all congregated on the front lawn as Gail took Cas's hands in hers, healing them.

"I'll take Cas back to the bunker," Gail told them, "then I'll come back here. In the meantime, you guys do some damage control," she added, nodding towards the house.

"Hold it," Dean said. "You two aren't going anywhere without at least one of us."

Gail regarded him coolly. "Don't you trust me, Dean?"

"It's not that, it's just - "

"It's just that he doesn't trust me not to persuade you into doing something that he thinks I shouldn't be doing," Cas broke in. The way he had phrased the sentence was very telling, yet oddly vague at the same time.

Dean nodded. Whatever Cas had meant by that, Cas was right.

Cas smiled. "She seldom needs persuasion," he said slyly. "In fact, she's usually quite enthusiastic."

"That's enough, Cas," Gail said firmly, and he shut up immediately. His point, if he indeed had one, was made.

Gail sighed. "All right, Dean. What do you suggest?"

"Bobby," Sam said suddenly. Everyone turned their heads to look at him. "Bobby can keep watch over Cas in the bunker until we get back."

Dean considered this. It was actually a pretty good idea, if Bobby would agree to it. Cas was not exactly on the list of Bobby's favourite people right now. And they hadn't exactly had a very joyful reunion the last time they'd seen each other.

Gail wasn't convinced it was such a great idea. The last time Bobby had seen Cas was at the cabin where Cas had tortured and killed Xavier. Bobby had been livid, and he had tossed Cas around like a rag doll. And while she'd kind of appreciated Bobby's fatherly concern, and perhaps a tiny part of her had felt satisfaction in seeing Cas experiencing some pain for once, Gail was worried about the thought of the two of them in the bunker, alone together. She'd known the two men to butt heads even when Cas had been an Angel, and Cas had always had a bit of a temper. And considering who they were trying to talk to through Oliver, and the fact that it was her spell book that was a big cause of this whole mess, maybe Bobby was the last person who should be with Cas right now. Gail was fairly pissed off about it herself; imagine how Cas must feel. If Bobby had just disclosed his relationship with Rowena and handed the spell book over to Sam and Dean when he should have, none of this would even be happening.

"No," Gail blurted out. "I think it should be Crowley."

Despite his anger at the situation, Sam had to smile momentarily at the ridiculousness of it. Imagine Bobby and Crowley, co-parenting. They could butt heads over what their son was or was not allowed to do. His smile vanished just as quickly. He guessed that wasn't particularly funny, under the present circumstances.

"Nope," Dean snapped. "Not gonna happen." Cas was plenty bad enough right now; they didn't need the King of Hell around him, giving him any more bad ideas.

Gail glared at him. "Well, then, what's the solution, Dean? We can't leave him alone there with Bobby. I won't!"

"Will everyone stop talking about me as if I'm not here?" Cas snapped. Gail looked at him, feeling instantly sorry. She could relate. Cas smiled without humour. "I feel bad enough about myself as it is, without everyone talking about me as if I'm the relative nobody wants to spend any time with."

Gail felt sorry for him then. She'd been spending so much time trying to figure out how to protect him that she hadn't stopped to take his feelings into account.

"I'm sorry, Cas," she said, moving to him and kissing him softly on the cheek. Cas put his arm around her waist as Oliver, who was watching out the window, hastily made the sign of the cross again. Lord help that woman, he thought. In a manner of speaking.

"What do you think is the best solution?" Gail asked Cas. Sam and Dean rolled their eyes at each other. Here we go.

But Cas surprised them. "I think it would be best if it were Bobby," he told them. Then he frowned. "But I don't think it should be just the two of us, either. We haven't always gotten along, especially lately." He was thinking of the cabin too. "Maybe there could be a third party there, to act as a buffer."

"Like who?" Dean said.

Cas thought for a moment. "How about Chuck?"

Gail looked at him, startled. Yes, Chuck was an Angel, and he was a good guy now, and one of their best friends in Heaven. But: "Do you really want to involve someone else in this?" she asked Cas. Up until now, Gail had been under the impression that Bobby was the only one in Heaven who knew that something was wrong with Cas. Well, probably Jason too, but who would believe him? She was unaware that Chuck, Ethan and Kevin had sat down with Bobby as a group and broached the subject just recently themselves.

Sam and Dean knew, because Bobby had told them about it, but they didn't see the upside in mentioning that to Gail. They remembered her pleading to them to keep it a secret. But they exchanged glances, nodding at each other.

"OK," Dean said. "Call Bobby and ask him to bring Chuck down with him." He looked at Cas expectantly.

"Dean," Sam said quietly. Nothing. "Dean!" he repeated, raising his voice. When Dean looked at him, Sam said, "Call Bobby on the phone."

Oh. Right. Dean was embarrassed now. He was just so used to Cas making those kinds of calls for him on Angel Radio.

"Sorry, Cas," he said. He alternated between being mad at the guy and feeling sorry for him, but right now, sympathy was winning. When Cas had talked about being the relative that nobody wanted around, that had really struck a chord with Dean. He'd secretly felt like that from time to time himself. Maybe he and Cas should sit down and have a heart-to-heart once Cas was better, just the two of them. Dean didn't go in for that whole group therapy crap, but he did know how damaging it was to have low self-esteem. First-hand.

So Bobby said he would bring Chuck to the bunker; just give him a few minutes. Then Gail walked up to Sam. She put her hand on his arm absently. A lot of times, she wasn't even aware she was doing that with people; it was just something she did when she talked to them about something serious, sometimes. But Cas noticed it, and his jaw clenched, though he said nothing. He was still mad about that conversation he and Sam had had earlier. Should he be worried about the two of them?

"Can you please do some damage control with this guy?" she asked Sam softly. "We haven't gotten off to the best start, but we need him, if we're going to try to contact Rowena."

Sam nodded. He knew that, of course. But Oliver was moody, and a bit unstable. Sam hoped he could get him back on board.

"I'll probably be a few minutes, trying to explain the situation to Chuck," Gail continued. Though what she was going to say, she was sure she didn't know. Just like she had no idea what she was going to say to Rowena. But, one giant problem at a time. She smiled at Sam. "Hopefully, you can use your powers of persuasion to let him know that we're OK."

"Well, obviously they're not as good as Cas's seem to be, but I'll give it my best shot," Sam said acidly. Gail gave him a baleful look and then she walked back to where Cas stood. She wasn't taking that bait. No way, nohow. She loved Sam way too much to hurt his feelings like that. She hoped he'd come around somehow once they obtained the cure. She looked at the house. This had better work. They were the world's most dysfunctional family right now, and the longer this went on, the worse it was going to get.

She took Cas's hand, and they disappeared.

They popped back into the bunker. Cas could get in now because he'd been an invited guest, but he could still only get in if accompanied by someone who was authorized, like Gail. That was OK with him; he didn't plan on going anywhere without her, anyway.

She looked around in surprise. They were in the bedroom, but she'd been shooting for the library area. "I nudged us over a bit," Cas said, smiling. "I wanted a private moment before you leave me."

In a way, what he said was sweet, but once again, Cas had phrased it strangely. She wasn't leaving him; she was just going back to have the seance.

"I'll be back soon," she assured him. She guessed he was just feeling bad about the conversation they had all had on the lawn in front of Oliver's house. Thank God he wasn't going to be here by himself. Bobby might be mad at Cas at the moment, but he would never let Cas do anything to hurt himself.

Cas put his arm around her and kissed her. His tongue probed her mouth, and she responded with hers. Cas's hand slid into the front of her pants and he began to stroke her.

"We don't have time," Gail protested softly in his ear. But it felt good, so good. She moved against his fingers.

"I don't care," Cas murmured into her ear, smiling. He licked her ear, softly telling her all the things he wanted to do with her when she got back. He'd seen that idiot looking through the window at them, making his little plus-sign like he thought it was going to make a difference. Bobby was here in the bunker right now; Demon Cas could sense him. It was really pretty exciting to be doing this, steps away from God.

He unzipped his pants and put her hand on him and then they were stroking each other, moving together. Perhaps Gail was aware that Bobby was in the building too, because she was burying her face in his shoulder, trying to use him to muffle her sounds. He didn't mind. But then she licked his shoulder, and he let out a groan because that had been so unexpected. Damn, she was good.

But they'd better finish, in case Bobby came to investigate. They sped up the motion of their hands at the same time, and he kissed her at the crucial moment. The kiss and the combination of their tongues together served to muffle their sounds, while making the feeling more intense.

"I love you, Cas," Gail whispered. He reluctantly removed his hand from her pants and did them back up for her, then did his own back up when she took her hand away. Gail looked down at herself. When had Cas undone her pants? He'd made her so crazy she hadn't even noticed. Boy, he was smooth.

And it was a good thing he was, too, because when they got to the library, Bobby was fuming. "I said a few minutes, not twenty," he rasped. "Where were you two?"

"Unpacking," Cas said evenly, walking up to Chuck. "As we're staying here indefinitely, we wanted to bring a few things."

Was he ever good. Bobby merely shrugged then, and he looked at Gail. "How are you, dear?" he said to her.

"I'm fine, Bobby," she said. Her stock answer. But she actually was feeling pretty darn good at the moment, if a bit wobbly on her feet. She and Cas smiled at each other.

Bobby looked at the two of them, looking at each other. He was older than anyone here, but he recognized that look. It was the kind of look a couple gave each other when they had just been fooling around and they thought nobody else knew. Well, weren't they clever. They must think he had been born yesterday.

Dean had hinted around during last night's report that these two had some kind of strange symbiotic relationship going now. It wasn't really as cut-and-dried as Bobby had believed. His father had dominated his mother in every way, while it seemed to Bobby that Cas and Gail had more of a tug-of-war situation going on. Cas had abused her and she'd left him, then he'd forced her to come back to him by kidnapping Sam and Dean, then the two of them had come here out of the blue, then Gail had insisted they stay here together, and now Cas was in a room with a Devil's Trap and was only allowed to emerge if Gail said it was OK. Now Bobby had had to bring Chuck to the bunker with him because Gail wouldn't allow Bobby to be there alone with Cas. If Bobby didn't know better, he'd swear that Gail was the dominant one in the relationship. But Bobby knew she had suffered greatly at Cas's hands, so he'd grudgingly had to admit that it was probably a good thing that Chuck was here.

Chuck stood as the couple approached him. Bobby hadn't had to tell him much, and he didn't know if that was fortunate, or unfortunate. He hadn't been nearly as shocked as he should have been. He was a Prophet, after all, and he'd been having some very disturbing visions. And what he hadn't seen, he could pretty much figure out for himself. He was a grown man, and he'd been a lonely, single one, and often not a very nice one. When he'd been a human on Earth, he'd checked out websites that would have made most Angels faint, and he'd availed himself of the services of professional ladies once or three times. One of them had even been wearing black leather, and he'd paid extra to involve the whip, just once, just to see what it felt like. So Chuck was probably the best guy they could have picked for an assignment of this particular nature.

He felt sad when he looked at Cas, and Chuck also felt angry. How the hell had this been allowed to happen? After everything Cas had been through at the tribunal and at that cabin, now this. And Chuck had been gorging at the trough of guilt as well. He bore a lot of the responsibility for Metatron, and he pretty much bore all of the responsibility for Aurielle, didn't he? Bobby had confided a few things to him in preparation for this assignment, so now Chuck knew pretty much everything that Bobby and the Winchesters did. He even understood Cas better than any of them. Chuck had done a lot of self-examination during his quiet hours at the library, and he had realized that he and Cas weren't so different. If you looked at it only on the surface, they had switched places now. Cas was a bad guy now, and Chuck was a good guy. But Chuck knew it went a lot deeper than that. Now that Chuck had been both bad and good, he had first-hand knowledge of how each felt inside of you. There was something very liberating about making the transition from one to the other, and to realize that it was your own choice. There were no longer any expectations on you to be a certain way, because the way you were now was the opposite. Chuck had always been a jerk and a creep, so nobody had expected him to be good. No expectations equalled no pressure. And Chuck knew that must be what Cas was feeling like right now. It was a mirror image, really. At some point after the execution, Crowley's Demon essence inside Cas had obviously whispered to him that being bad could be fun, and that he should try it sometime. Cas must have been angry and bitter at Heaven and and even God after the unfairness of the tribunal procedure and the ultimate censure of the board members. And who could blame him? Then there was Gail, too. Everyone in the gallery had seen the couple holding hands and hugging on occasion, and the Angels thought it was sweet. And it was. But Chuck had been in Las Vegas, and he had read between the lines. The couple had practically shouted it out loud to Xavier. They were Angels, but they wanted a physical relationship. This Demon stuff had been a loophole for them, but they hadn't known about Metatron's secret recipe and they had naively thought that it would be OK.

Chuck extended his hand to Cas for a shake, and Cas was taken aback by this simple gesture. So much so that his eyes were in danger of tearing up now. Now he understood what humans whose hormones were surging must feel like. Cas wasn't just lazily seesawing back and forth between emotions, he was now whipcracking. It was a good thing that Gail wasn't still a human woman, or he would have had to buy her flowers and a card every month for the rest of her life. He didn't know how people could stand it.

He accepted Chuck's hand and shook with him. This gesture had meant so much to Cas because Dean and Sam now treated him with mistrust and contempt, and Cas had missed the little signs of affection they used to show him. A smile, a clap on the shoulder, gentle teasing when something he said or did amused them. And when Gail had come along, he had viewed their easy affection for her as an extension of their affection for him. But now he was an outsider, and even though he knew it was nothing he didn't deserve, it was cold outside.

Then Chuck looked at Gail, and he held out his arms for a hug. Gail walked into them and laid her head on Chuck's shoulder as he held her gently. Bobby had advised that she seemed to be in considerable pain, and Chuck could tell that too, just from the way she had walked into the room, so he didn't want to squeeze her too hard.

Cas looked at the two of them hugging, and it didn't bother him, or make him mad. Chuck's gesture had allowed him to beat the Demon back for the moment, and all he saw now was a friend who was offering Gail the comfort she needed.

"How are you, Gail? I've missed you at the library," Chuck said softly. "How's that book-writing coming? Do you need any help?"

Gail stepped back from Chuck's hug and looked at him, startled. What the hell was he talking about?

"I don't know why I said that," Chuck said lamely. But he did know why, of course. He'd had visions of Gail sitting down at a computer, writing stories, and then e-mailing Chuck drafts for him to read. He'd also had visions of Cas sitting on a patio alone, drinking. The couple weren't together, and they were both miserable, and it made Chuck miserable just looking at their faces. He'd also seen a lot of other humans, Angels, and even Demons doing strange things and acting strangely. And every now and then he would see God, looking puzzled and fiddling with the dials of what looked like the world's largest old-school TV. God would either get snow, or a picture with a lot of interference. Then he would hit the TV in frustration. Then, miraculously, a clear picture for a moment. But it would usually depict a scene that was puzzling. Metatron, a priest. Crowley, a mild-mannered bookstore clerk. Aurielle, a pop singer. And Chuck himself, a world-renowned author. Then God would fiddle with the controls and everything would become garbled again.

Chuck had taken to writing all of his visions down in a journal, and though many of them were actually positive, some had been horrifying, and he was too afraid to share them with Kevin or anyone else. He'd wanted a distraction, so he'd asked Bobby if they could start setting up the new board. But Bobby had told him they'd better wait, and now Chuck guessed he understood why. Cas and Gail were the top priority right now, and Bobby couldn't be playing politics while he was this concerned abouth them. Chuck didn't have a problem with that. There wouldn't even be a new order or a new attitude in Heaven if it weren't for Cas and Gail.

Bobby had told Chuck he wasn't allowed to say anything about what he saw here today to anyone in Heaven, and Chuck had promised, but he was going to break that promise. He and Kevin and Ethan had formed such a strong bond now that Chuck would share some stuff with them, though how much, he would have to wait and see. It depended on how bad Cas really was. But Chuck and his two other Angel friends were like the Three Musketeers now, and Chuck thought it would be unfair to keep his friends in the dark. They had gone through the ordeal of the tribunal and Cas's execution together, and they were the men who had helped Gail when she'd needed it most. Ethan and Kevin were both extremely worried about Cas and Gail too, and they had been for a while.

Gail was still looking at Chuck strangely over the comment he'd made about her writing a book. That was the second time today that something like that had happened. Sam had said something to her earlier about her having gone to college, and taking English Lit, and she had done neither. And now Chuck was asking her about a book she was not writing, as if she were writing one. What the hell was going on here? And who the hell had time to even read a book these days, let alone write one? Although she certainly could, she thought. Oh boy, could she write a book. The trouble was, nobody would ever believe it.

And speaking of which...she had a seance to go to, and a medium who had cast her Demon boyfriend out of his house to persuade to pierce the veil of the Netherworld so she could talk to the dead witch mother of the King of Hell about reversing a spell on a now-evil Angel. Yeah, it would be a bestseller, all right. Did bookstores have an ultra super duper Fantasy section?

"I really wish I could hang around and talk," Gail said to Chuck, "but I have a...thing." She really wasn't sure how much or how little Bobby had told Chuck about what was going on, but now was not the time to try to find out. She'd better get back there, see if Sam had been able to persuade Oliver to hold the seance. So she gave Chuck and Bobby quick kisses on the cheek, then she walked over to where Castiel stood. He was looking down at the chairs around the table, as if he couldn't decide which one of them to sit in. She put her arms around him, and he put his around her. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she told him. "I know you will," Cas answered her, smiling gently. For the moment, he was okay with her leaving him. But he hoped she wouldn't be gone too long, or that might possibly change. Spending time here with Bobby might prove to be more and more difficult by the minute if Bobby spent the whole time angry with him. And now Cas was wondering what he could possibly think of to talk to Chuck about. Suddenly, he was feeling insecure again. "Please hurry back," Cas said, taking both of her hands in his. Gail thought the gesture was sweet. "I will," she said in response, "but don't worry, I'm not coming back without it." And she meant it, too. Whatever she had to do, she would do. She felt like they were so close to getting the cure now.

Gail looked at Bobby. "Look after him for me, will you, please?"

Bobby gave her a nod. He was still royally pissed at Cas, but he would try to keep his cool. It seemed like Cas was making an effort here, and it sounded like Gail and the boys were on the verge of getting the recipe for the cure. So Bobby would try his best to just talk to Cas, and he had encouraged Chuck to do the same. Maybe try to avoid hot-button issues, Chuck had suggested. But Bobby had smiled humourlessly at that. If Chuck could think of any, he'd be happy to go with them.

And then, with one last kiss on the cheek for Cas, Gail was gone.

The men sat around the table in silence for a few minutes. What on earth could they talk about that wasn't going to end up being a contentious subject? Bobby didn't even know if he should ask how Cas was; even that could be a loaded question. And Cas didn't know how much Chuck knew about the current situation. He knew it had been his idea to have Chuck here, but Cas was now feeling that this may have been a mistake. Chuck must know something, Cas figured; what he now started to fear was that Chuck may know far too much. What had he been thinking, asking for a Prophet to come here? And Chuck was looking at Bobby for guidance, but Bobby had none to give. If they were humans, he would suggest having a few beers, or some shots, or both. But they didn't drink, and they didn't eat. What the hell were they supposed to do?

The silence was starting to get to Bobby, and he had just opened his mouth to say something, anything, talk about the weather maybe, when the men heard a sound. They heard a door opening down the hall, and footsteps making their way down the corridor. Bobby and Cas both sprang to their feet, and Cas automatically went for his blade before realizing he didn't have one.

"Dean? Sam? Anybody home?" the voice called out.

Frank appeared in the entryway of the library. He saw the Angels and smiled. "Hey, Cas, Bobby. And it's Chuck, right?" He looked around. "Where's Gail? Where are Sam and Dean?"

The men all looked at each other. Damn, Bobby thought. Of all the times to pick. What were they going to tell Gail's brother?

Gail knocked on the front door of Oliver's house. He opened the door immediately, as if he'd been standing there waiting for her. And maybe he had.

"All right, come in, before I change my mind," he said to her, frowning. Oliver had been extremely upset with Sam. Bringing a guy who was virtually a full Demon over to Oliver's house, expecting Oliver to sit down and hold his hand around the table? Yeah, Oliver didn't think so. He may be an atheist, but he knew evil when he saw it. He could sense that the Demon still had a sliver of Angel inside him and that the Angel was fighting to take possession, but Oliver was convinced the Angel was going to lose. And this female? Oliver knew she was mainly still good, but she had a peculiar cocktail of her own swimming inside her veins, and he knew the nature of her relationship with the Demon. She could be easily swayed.

But Sam had been very persuasive himself, begging Oliver for the chance to talk to Rowena so that they could get the cure. Far be it from Oliver to stand in the middle of the road to redemption. So he had acquiesced. As long as Sam and Dean made sure the female behaved herself, he would allow her to enter and sit in the circle with them.

He ushered Gail into the back room, where Sam and Dean were already seated at the table. Gail gave them a nervous smile as she sat between them, opposite the empty chair in which Oliver would sit. He had arranged them that way on purpose. Oliver didn't like the pictures that had formed in his head when Gail had briefly touched him earlier, and he refused to sit there holding her hand.

Oliver drew the blackout curtains around the room and then lit a single candle in the middle of the table. "Join hands," he told them. He took his seat, grabbing one of Sam's hands and one of Dean's.

Dean nodded to the spell book, which was sitting on the table in front of him. "What about that?" he asked Oliver. Before Gail had gotten here, Oliver had advised that the connection of their hands must be maintained at all times throughout the process, or the connection to the spirit world might be broken. But they would need to refer to the book and the list of ingredients Metatron had provided, wouldn't they?

"Give it to her." Oliver nodded to Gail. She could hear the contempt in his voice. "If she has to look at the book or write anything down, we'll close our circle and maintain the connection. The witch may stay in communication if she senses that her killer has left the circle." Gail looked at him sharply. How much did this guy know? Oliver went on, "But we need the female in the circle initially, to provide the power needed to pierce the veil."

Gail knew they needed this guy, but she was getting annoyed. "I have a name, you know," she said tartly. She was thinking of Xavier and the board.

Oliver regarded her evenly. "I know you do," he said. Gail tried to stare him down, but she felt like he could see right through her. She knew the name he had in mind, and she felt ashamed. At least he had had the good grace not to say the word in front of Sam and Dean.

The brothers had been looking back and forth between Oliver and Gail during that exchange. The tension in the room was starting to build, and things were nerve-wracking enough already.

"How about we just start?" Sam said softly, and Gail looked at him gratefully. She didn't know how much longer she could have withstood Oliver's scrutiny. She knew what she was now; she didn't need this guy to point it out to her.

So Dean slid the book over to Gail, giving her a half-shrug, and then he took her hand back. Oliver closed his eyes and began to chant. Gail could make out part of what he was saying, but mostly, it sounded like a foreign language. This went on for a few minutes, then Gail could see the candle in the middle of the table flicker, and the room began to turn cold. Just like the movies, she thought. Then the candle snuffed out, and the room was plunged into total darkness.

Gail let out a small gasp, and both Sam and Dean squeezed her hands briefly for reassurance.

"Are you there, Rowena?" Gail heard Oliver's voice call out, though she couldn't see him due to the total darkness of the room.

"Yes, I am." Rowena's voice. Gail recognized the lilt of her voice, and the Scottish burr. She shivered a little. The room was very cold now, and Rowena's voice was clear and distinctive. Then Gail felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, and she let go of Sam and Dean's hands, turning around in her chair. But that was ridiculous. It was pitch dark, and she couldn't see a damn thing. But she had felt that hand.

"Gail?" Sam said. He wanted to feel his way around the table to her, make sure she was OK, but Oliver clamped down on both his and Dean's hands. "Keep holding hands!" he ordered the men. "Don't break the connection!"

"So, you killed me, and now you're here seeking my help," Rowena said. It sounded like she was standing right behind Gail, and Gail was starting to freak out a bit. "Is there any way we could get a little light in the room?" Gail said nervously.

"Funny, you weren't so afraid of the dark when you were with my son," Rowena said. Gail could hear both amusement and resentment in her voice. "And now, you've gone even darker with the Angel. Tell me, is he more well-endowed than my son? It's a shame I never got to find out."

Oh, God, Gail thought. Please don't let her say anything else. But she had pretty much expected this, hadn't she?

"Oliver, please," Gail appealed to him. If she had to sit here in the darkness listening to Rowena speak like that and sounding so near for much longer, she was going to lose it.

"Rowena, may we have some light?" Oliver asked.

"Why, certainly," Rowena said, and Gail could hear the smile in her voice. "I want to see her."

There was a flash of pink light, almost like a flame, and a ball of pink light appeared, suspended in the middle of the table. It afforded just enough illumination for the occupants of the room to make out each other's faces.

And there Rowena stood, behind Gail's chair. She had no solid form, of course, but Gail could see her clearly, down to the expression on her face. Rowena looked amused, but Gail could feel the hostility emanating from her.

Rowena strolled over to where Dean sat, still staring at Gail, and she put her hand on Dean's shoulder, then slid it down and touched his bicep, squeezing it. Dean jerked his arm, as if trying to shake something off of it. "What is that?" Dean asked Oliver. He shook his arm again, a look of distaste on his face.

"It's Rowena," Gail told Dean. "Can't you guys see her?"

"No," Dean said sharply, looking around, and Sam shook his head.

"Only Oliver and Gail can see me," Rowena said. She looked at Sam, then at Dean, then back at Sam. "But I can see you, boys," she continued, sounding eerily like her son for a moment, "and you're looking very well. Very healthy." Now she sidled over to Sam, and Rowena stroked Sam's cheek. Sam had followed the direction of her voice, so he'd figured she was approaching him, but he still jumped a bit at her touch. But he sat stoically, maintaining the connection, as Dean had.

Gail looked at Rowena warily. Was she trying to get one of them to let go of the others' hands? Or was she just messing around with them? She seemed to have appeared willingly enough. Gail supposed there wasn't much in the way of entertainment in a place called the Netherworld.

"So, how is my dear son?" Rowena asked. She had moved around to stand behind Oliver now. She didn't touch him, though. Maybe she'd had her fun, or maybe even dead, otherworldly beings sensed his ability to read them. "I know you've been seeing a great deal of him, Gail. And I know he's seen a great deal of you."

Gail was discomfited by that remark. Why had Rowena put it that way? How much did she know, and how did she know it? Gail sure as hell didn't want Sam and Dean to find out about that little episode. So Gail pulled the spell book closer to her, showing it to Rowena.

"We're here to see you about this," Gail told her, trying to adopt a businesslike tone.

"Oh yes, my wee present," Rowena said, and now a trace of genuine affection crept into her voice. "And how is my dear Bobby?"

Dean and Sam's expressions darkened at her question, but they said nothing. Anything they could think of to say to that would just piss the witch off.

"He's good, Rowena," Gail answered, trying to maintain a conciliatory tone.

"Unlike Castiel, who isn't," Rowena retorted. "Isn't that a shame." She affected a pout, then she smiled nastily. "Although there can be some definite benefits to that, can there not? I used to lay with a Demon myself, so I know. That was, until you beheaded me, of course."

Gail sighed inwardly. This attitude of Rowena's was nothing she hadn't expected, but it was difficult for her to keep a civil tongue in her own head. Yes, she had killed Rowena, and in a rather spectacular fashion, Gail thought wryly. But Rowena and Crowley had made life very difficult for Gail, to say the least; and though Gail had been warming to Crowley lately due to the strange circumstances she now found herself in, she had not forgiven, and she had not forgotten.

But Gail really needed Rowena's cooperation, so she bit back any potential retort she was tempted to offer, and she tried to swallow her pride.

"Rowena, I'm very sorry about that - " she started to say, but the witch cut her off.

"No, you're not," Rowena snapped.

Gail sighed. No, she wasn't. But she had no idea what to say to this woman now. What the hell was she supposed to say? Had she thought that Rowena was just going to help her out of the goodness of her heart?

Rowena had moved back to stand behind Gail now, and she put her hand on Gail's shoulder again. How was she doing that? She didn't have a corporeal body. But Gail could feel her hand there. It suddenly clamped down, and Rowena's fingernails dug into her skin. Gail winced in pain, and Rowena leaned down, speaking into her ear.

"What's the matter, dearie?" she cooed. "I thought you liked this sort of thing." She laughed, then removed her hand. "I suppose I'd better not draw any blood, though. We both know how much he likes that."

"Shut up." Dean said. He was sickened. Just because he couldn't see Rowena didn't mean he couldn't hear her.

Oliver had heard, too, and he looked at Gail with disgust. "Ask your questions," he said to her. "I'm not sure how much longer the connection is going to hold."

"It will hold as long as I want it to hold," Rowena said with amusement in her voice. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time. It's a shame that Castiel couldn't be here with us today, though. I would really have loved to touch him. But I'm sure I'll be seeing him soon, once he behaves so badly that my dear Bobby will have no choice but to kill him."

Gail sighed. "Is there anything I can say or do here that will possibly persuade you to help us?" she asked Rowena. "If not, you may as well let go," she continued, looking at Sam and Dean. "I'm not here to be your little toy, Rowena."

Rowena surprised her then. "No, you're not," she said softly. "And you shouldn't be his, either. Have some self-respect."

Out of all the things that Rowena had said to her, this one hurt the worst. "Let's go, guys," Gail said, shaking her head. "We're wasting our time here."

"Gail..." Sam started to say, but Rowena said hastily, "Wait."

Frank had gone to the fridge and helped himself to a beer, and he sat down at the library table, popping the cap. "I guess I'm the only one here that can appreciate one of these," he said, smiling. He took a drink and sat back in his chair, looking at Cas.

"Where's my sister?" Frank asked.

Bobby and Chuck looked at each other, neither of them knowing what to say. But Cas did. He had that Demon tongue, after all.

"She's with Sam and Dean, on a case," Cas said, smiling at Frank. Bobby had to hand it to him. He wasn't even technically lying.

"Why aren't you with them?" Frank asked Cas.

Without any hesitation, Cas said, "Because Chuck's here for a training session, and I volunteered."

Chuck looked at him, startled. What?

But that didn't seem strange at all to Frank. He remembered that Chuck had requested fight training when Cas and Gail had been kidnapped and taken to that cabin. Made sense to him. In fact, Frank thought that Bobby should be authorizing more of that kind of thing. The more fighters on the side of good, the better, as far as Frank was concerned.

"I'll help, too," Frank said to them. "Do we know when they're getting back?" he asked Cas.

"Not sure," Cas said easily. "Soon, I hope."

"OK, well, let's go, Chuck," Frank said, standing.

Chuck looked stricken. "Go where?"

Frank nudged Cas, who had stood also. He rolled his eyes. "Are all of them this chicken?"

Cas smiled. This was the best that he and Frank had ever been able to get along. Apparently, all it had taken was for Frank to go away. He wasn't sure how long he wanted Frank to stick around, though. The longer he was here, the more chance there was for something bad to happen. Presumably, Frank would want to stay here at the bunker, at least for a night or two, and Cas had no intention of curtailing his activities with Gail in their bedroom. He was already looking forward to a repeat of last night and this morning when she got back, and he knew Frank would have a problem with that. Maybe he could get Sam and Dean to take Frank somewhere for a while, so he wouldn't have to hear his sister crying out Cas's name, over and over again.

But until then, Cas could keep himself occupied by sparring with Chuck for a while. The problem was, he really wanted to have another shot at Frank. Chuck had been a master manipulator and plotter before he'd turned good guy, but he had never been a fighter. Cas would have to lead him by the hand like a child. But Frank would give him a real contest. Cas smiled. Maybe he should wait until he and Gail had their next extended session, and then challenge Frank. He'd bet Gail's brother would be highly motivated then.

Bobby and Chuck stood now, too. Bobby supposed he could allow a little basic training for Chuck. It was a good idea for some of the Angels to be trained in combat, in Bobby's opinion. Most of them were nothing more than glorified office workers. If Crowley or anyone else decided to mount an organized attack, they would be in serious trouble. Look at what had happened with Metatron and the Demon Tablet. The only reason they'd come out of that little adventure unscathed was because the number of Demon assailants had been greatly reduced, and that was due to the skills of the Angels and humans fighting on the side of good. And Crowley had helped out too, Bobby had to admit, albeit grudgingly. Of course, their best fighter was currently on the wrong side, Bobby thought. He looked at Cas, who was smiling easily at Frank. Suddenly, Bobby wasn't so sure this was a good idea.

Chuck wasn't sure, either. He'd said he wanted to receive combat training from Cas, and he did. He just wasn't sure that now was the best time. He hadn't seen any Demon behavious from Cas yet, but was Chuck really thinking about facing Cas with a weapon in his hand? Yes, he and Cas and Bobby could all heal each other, but still...pain was pain.

But he supposed he had no choice. Chuck knew that Gail's brother was currently out of the loop, and the others wanted him to stay out, for his own safety. And Chuck loved Gail like a sister now, too. So he would have to go along with their cover story. He just hoped Cas wouldn't hurt him too much.

Sam and Dean had been about to let go when Rowena told them to wait. She'd sounded a little panicked when Gail had told them they were all wasting their time, and to let go. Maybe Rowena had been full of it when she'd claimed that she was in charge; maybe she was only able to stay because of the connection.

"Will you help us, or not?" Sam demanded. "We can just let go and leave, you know."

Rowena pursed her lips. She doubted they would do that. They needed her desperately. But she needed them as well. Now that they had brought her out of the veil, Rowena's mind was working furiously on a way to stay. She'd known that they were calling on her to help undo the damage that Metatron had caused with his tomfoolery, and Rowena had been amused to see how far the Angel had fallen. Angels, actually, if you counted Gail. But Rowena had also been appalled to see Gail submitting to Demon Cas's domination, bending to his will. Sure, she had pushed back eventually, and she did get on top sometimes, but the marks on her body and the hesitant way she moved signified to Rowena that Gail was a victim. This had raised Rowena's feminist ire. Gail should be putting the collar on Castiel, not the other way around. If Rowena were Gail, she would pour the cure down Castiel's throat all right, but she would take a few more vials of his blood into herself, first. Then let him see how it felt to be on the receiving end, for a change.

"Let me see the list," Rowena snapped. Gail opened the book and held up the list of ingredients Metatron had used for Rowena to look at.

Rowena smiled. Her son's handwriting. After all this time, he was obviously enamoured of Gail still. Why else would he be going out of his way to help her like this?

"Where did you get that list?" Rowena asked Gail, intrigued. "And HOW did you get it?" She hadn't been able to see that little episode. No otherworldly being could see into the wing of Hell that held Lucifer's cage, not even her. It was that protected.

"We went to see Metatron in Lucifer's cage, and he told us what he put in the potion," Gail answered.

Wow. Even Rowena had to be impressed by that. Perhaps Gail hadn't lost all of her spirit after all.

"How did you gain admission?" Rowena asked curiously.

Gail sighed. Sam and Dean already knew, but she hadn't wanted Oliver to hear this. He thought so little of her as it was. But, God willing, she'd never have to see him again after today.

"Castiel had already injected me with his blood, twice, so then Crowley injected me with one vial of his own blood. Only one, though. Then he said I had enough in me to get in," Gail told her.

As expected, Oliver did not take this well. "I knew there was something wrong with you!" he shouted at Gail. "I'm done here." He tried to let go of the Winchesters' hands and walk away from the table, but both Sam and Dean gripped his hands in theirs tightly, and they yanked him back down into his chair.

"It's fortunate you have been to Lucifer's cage, for you will have to go there again," Rowena told Gail. "In fact, you both will."

"Why would we have to do that?" Dean asked, annoyed. He loved Cas and Gail, but he really didn't want to go through that again.

Rowena lifted an eyebrow. "You?" she said scornfully. "I would have thought it would have been your brother who had accompanied Gail there. After all..."

But Gail didn't want Oliver to hear the rest of that sentence, so she quickly interrupted. "So Dean and I have to go to Lucifer's cage again?" Gail asked her. "What for?"

Rowena hesitated. She thought she had figured out a win-win situation here. Well, win-win-lose, actually.

"Not you and Dean," she told Gail. "You and Castiel."

Great, Gail thought. "And what do we do when we get there?"

"Quid pro quo," Rowena responded. Sam smirked, unable to help himself. Rowena sure didn't look like Anthony Hopkins, though she was almost as awful as the character he had played. Rowena continued, "I will tell you the first ingredient you need for the potion to reverse the spell, but I want something in return."

Of course she did, Sam thought. He had rolled his eyes at the movie reference, but he should have expected as much. "What do you want?" he asked her.

"Regular visits," Rowena said brightly. "There's no one fun here to talk to. And I have missed you all, so very, very much."

"For how long?" Sam said warily.

"For however long it takes to give you all the ingredients," Rowena responded. "And I must warn you, they won't be easy to obtain. Metatron has made a mockery of the magic contained in my book. A spell is not a stew," she spat out. Of all the aspects of this situation, this was the one that bothered her the most. She was proud of that book. It was a compendium of all of the knowledge that she had acquired over the centuries. But it took a special sort of talent to put together the potions and cast the spells, and Metatron had just tossed random ingredients in there as if they had not mattered one whit. Well, as the Angels and humans would find out, the ingredients mattered a great deal. Like the bonding agent Metatron had added at the end, to ensure that the effects would be irreversible. Or so he had thought. But Rowena knew how to remove that bonding agent. It would take the most powerful thing of all to achieve that, but it could be done. And that was what she would lead off with now, as a show of good faith.

But Gail was frowning. How long was this going to take? "How many ingredients are there?" she asked Rowena.

"Seven, of course," Rowena replied, smiling. "The most magical of numbers. Seven Deadly Sins, Seven Contrary Virtues. But first, an ingredient will be required to add to the finished product, to remove the bonding agent."

"Bonding agent?" Gail asked, puzzled.

"Yes," Rowena responded. "The one that Metatron attached to Castiel's essence. Once his essence was infected, the change in him was permanent."

Gail's heart fell to her stomach, but Dean was enraged. "If the change is permanent, then what are we even doing here?" he shouted.

Rowena looked at him, amused. He was kind of sexy when he got angry. "We have to counteract the bonding agent with the most powerful thing we have at our didposal."

We, thought Gail scornfully. Suddenly, we're a team. But at least, Rowena seemed to be cooperating now, though Gail wasn't quite sure why. Was Rowena so desperate for conversation that she was willing to help them for that reason alone? Gail highly doubted that. But she'd play along for now. Then, when they had all the ingredients, Gail would make sure to arrange a trade for Rowena. Maybe Death could agree to send Rowena to Hell. Then she and Crowley could drive each other nuts for eternity. No, Gail hadn't forgiven either one of them.

"We have to treat the infection as humans would treat a tumour," Rowena explained. "We have to send in the troops, as it were. Only the essences of the five Originals, combined together, can remove the bonding agent." Gail stared at her, open-mouthed. Rowena stared back at Gail. "You must obtain a breath each from Castiel, my son, yourself, Metatron, and Lucifer. The essences must be willingly given, and must be collected by you, Gail, as all five of you stand together. Put them in a vial, and keep the vial in a safe place until the cure is ready. Then you will add the contents of the vial to the potion and have him drink it."

Sam whistled out loud. He couldn't help himself. Crowley would likely cooperate, but how were they supposed to get Metatron and Lucifer to do that? Were they finished before they even started?

Chuck was sweating profusely, and he doubled over, trying to catch his breath. Hand-to-hand combat was not for wimps, that was for sure. He was exhausted, and he was a little embarrassed about that fact. He'd thought he was in pretty good shape, but obviously, he'd been wrong. And the worst thing of all was his feeling that Cas had gone extremely easy on him.

Cas had, too. They had been sparring under the watchful eyes of Bobby and Frank, but even so, Cas had no particular desire to hurt Chuck. With Chuck's inexperience, it would be like preying on a lamb. Way too easy. But the simulated violence was teasing the Demon, and he was becoming frustrated. He needed a real battle soon, or he was going to explode. He hadn't used his blade for a while now, and he could see it, sitting on the weapons table, calling to him.

"I'm sorry, Cas, but I'm done," Chuck said, panting. He tried to smile. "I'll have to find out if Heaven has a gym, so I can get in better shape for next time." He moved to the side of the room and flopped down in a chair, trying to catch his breath. Bobby handed him a towel, trying not to grin too widely. Lucky he was God; as the elder statesman, and one with considerable powers to boot, Bobby no longer had to worry about keeping himself in shape. Good thing, too. He'd have been a puddle on the floor after the workout Cas just gave Chuck.

Cas looked at Frank. "What do you say, Frank?" he said affably. "Want a bit of exercise?"

Chuck had hung the towel over his head, which was currently between his knees, but he peeked out at Cas now. Unbelievable. Chuck rolled his eyes. If he'd still been a bad guy, he'd be hating Cas's guts right now. Chuck was about to pass out, and not only had Cas not even broken a sweat, he wanted to keep going.

Frank regarded Cas. He hadn't forgotten what had happened the last time they had faced off in this room. Cas had actually stabbed Gail when the two of them were sparring, and though neither of them had seemed particularly bothered about it, it had been disturbing to watch. Cas had healed Gail, of course, but it had looked to Frank that he had taken his sweet time about it for some reason. That had pissed Frank off, and he and Cas had had words about it when Gail had left the room. Then she had come storming back, freaking out, as if she'd thought that the two of them were going to seriously hurt each other, or something. So she'd overreacted, doing her Angel thing to send Frank to the diner and forcing Sam and Dean to come and collect him. At least Dean had gotten a good meal out of it, Frank remembered, smiling.

But Gail was just being silly. Why would Cas hurt Frank? He'd brought Frank back from Hell, hadn't he? If he'd been pissed off at Frank for having killed him in the den that day, all he'd have had to do was leave Frank there. And if he'd done it just for Gail's sake, he wouldn't do anything to hurt Frank now. Whatever Frank might think about Cas personally, or about his and Gail's relationship, he knew that Cas had to know his sister very well by now. Gail had one of the world's longest fuses, but when you got to the end of it? Boom. And every man on Earth or in Heaven knew you could never underestimate the power of an extremely pissed-off woman. Cas wouldn't dare hurt Frank.

Nor would Frank ever want to hurt Cas, either. He wasn't sure he would ever truly like the guy, as he liked Sam and Dean, but he had to have his good points. Look at the way the Winchesters and the Angels backed him. Frank knew he'd had his troubles in Heaven, but that board had sounded like a bad bunch, anyway. From what Frank could see, Cas was well thought of by anybody who really mattered. He obviously had God's endorsement. Frank thought highly of Bobby, both as God and as a man. And Gail had always been a little naive, but she was not stupid. She'd been a good judge of character all her life, and if she loved Cas, he had to have a lot more to him than just good looks and charm.

So Frank smiled at Cas. "Sure. Let's go for a few minutes."

Cas walked over to the weapons table and picked up his blade, thought for a moment, then picked up Gail's, too. No sense putting himself at risk if Frank got a lucky shot in.

"Here," he said, handing Gail's blade to Frank. "It's your sister's. She won't mind."

Frank took it, but he regarded Cas curiously. Why did he insist on using real weapons in training sessions? Well, at least he did with people with experience; with Chuck, it had been simulated weapons only. Maybe the perceived element of danger made it more fun for him. But there could never be any real danger. Unless an Angel received a deliberate thrust right into the chest with an Angel blade, any other wound incurred could be healed immediately. Frank, on the other hand, could be hurt plenty, if Cas had a mind to do so. But Frank didn't believe Cas did, and if Frank were to sustain something incidental, there were two Angels plus God here on standby.

So Cas and Frank faced off, and they began to fight.

Neither man was able to touch the other for a while. They lunged at each other, parried, then sidestepped, and Chuck and Bobby were enjoying the show. It was like a swashbuckling scene from the movies, and what guy didn't enjoy those?

But the Demon in Cas was getting frustrated. Frank was almost too good, and Cas hadn't been able to touch him. Not that he intended to seriously harm Frank, but he did want to cut him a couple of times, to show him who the better man was. He hadn't forgotten how Frank had treated him before, or how Frank had spoken to Gail. But how could he cut him if he couldn't get to him?

Of course. Frank was a human now. If Cas could rile him up, he would make a mistake.

Cas put his hand up. "Just a moment, Frank." He turned his back to Frank and blinked out the blue contacts he'd been wearing. Gail had thoughtfully packed them in the suitcase from home, and she had suggested he put them in before they went to Oliver's. As it turned out, it had made no difference, but he had left them in when he'd known Bobby and Chuck were coming. He'd just now remembered that Frank still thought he was an Angel; maybe if he showed Frank the purple, it would unnerve him. And Cas had a thing or two to say that he was pretty sure would do the trick, also.

He turned back around and looked at Frank. Gail's brother did a double-take when he saw Cas's eyes, and as they resumed fighting, Frank noticed that the purple was growing darker.

"What's with your eyes, Cas?" Frank asked. He was a little unhinged now.

"Just a little variety," Cas said. Then he smiled. "Your sister likes variety."

Frank frowned. He remembered when he'd been here last that Cas had made comments like that from time to time. But he said nothing, just kept fighting.

Cas had seen Frank frown, and his smile grew wider. Time to ratchet it up a bit. "In fact, if you plan on staying here tonight, you may want to wear some earplugs. Gail tends to be very vocal when she's happy."

"Cool it, Cas," Bobby growled. He'd seen Cas's eyes change, and he knew what was going on here. The Demon wanted to play with Gail's brother.

"What's wrong, Bobby?" Cas said, sidestepping Frank's charge. "We're all men here. We all know how good it is." Frank brought the blade down again, but Cas used his arm to block Frank's, then slashed Frank's arm with his own blade. Then he grabbed Frank by the shirt and pulled him closer. "And your sister is very, very good," he said.

Frank lost it then. He stabbed Cas in the shoulder with the blade. "That's for talking smack about my sister. We're done here," Frank said. He took the blade out of Cas's shoulder and let it drop on the floor, then he turned his back on Cas and started to walk away.

Cas's shoulder was bleeding copiously, and he was enraged now. They were just getting started, and this douchebag was walking away? He didn't think so. He rushed after Frank, raising his blade, and stabbed Frank in the back. Frank fell to his knees, and Cas stabbed him again. Then Frank fell forward onto his face. Cas leaned down and rolled him over, watching him closely for signs of movement.

Bobby was rooted to the spot by shock. He was so shocked he literally couldn't move. But Chuck ran over to Cas and grabbed him by the arms, shaking him. "What the hell are you doing, Cas? Heal him, then man up and apologize!" he yelled.

Cas blinked a couple of times, then he looked down at Frank again. What had he done? He fell to the floor and rolled Frank back over, putting his hands on Frank's wounds. But they weren't healing. Why weren't they healing?

Chuck shouldered Cas aside, laying his hands on Frank instead. Maybe Cas's status now had affected his healing abilities. But it wasn't working for Chuck, either. What the hell?

"Bobby, you'd better get over here," Chuck said nervously. But Bobby was just standing there. "Bobby! Get your ass over here!" Chuck yelled. That broke Bobby's paralysis, and he rushed over, dropping to his knees beside Frank. He took one look and he knew, but he checked Frank for vitals, anyway.

Bobby's eyes raised to Chuck's. "He's dead," he said quietly. What were they going to do now?

"We need to talk about this," Sam was saying earnestly. He looked at Oliver. "Can we break the connection while we talk in private, then re-establish it when we're done?"

Oliver shrugged. "I can try. But there are no guarantees."

"Don't worry, I'll be waiting right here," Rowena said lightly. "It's not as if I've got someplace else to go."

Sam, Dean and Gail all looked at each other, and then the men let go of Oliver's and each other's hands. The ball of pink light disappeared, and the room was plunged into darkness again. They heard Oliver's chair scrape on the floor and an instant later, he drew back one of the black drapes, letting in just enough light so that they could see one another's faces again.

"I'll put on a pot of coffee," Oliver said, and he left the room.

Sam had been about to protest that they probably weren't going to stay much longer, but then he shut his mouth. Oliver was giving them a chance to talk in private, something he had been about to request anyway.

Gail was looking down at the piece of paper on which she'd jotted down Rowena's first instruction. "So, we just have to go back to Hell and get Metatron and Lucifer to give us a little of their essence?" she exclaimed shakily. "Piece of cake, right, Dean?"

"Easy peasy," he responded sarcastically.

They all looked at each other, but nobody felt particularly like laughing. "And even if we somehow get the impossible accomplished, we have to come back here and deal with HER seven more times?" Gail lamented. "How long is that supposed to take? And what the hell else will we need to get for this stupid counter-spell, or whatever it is?" But of course, none of them had any answers to the questions she was asking.

"One step at a time," Sam said, sighing. It was a rational enough statement, but he wasn't feeling very rational at the moment. He also wondered how long the process was going to take. He didn't know how much longer he could take living under the same roof with Cas the way he was now. But they had to keep Gail safe from him. He looked at Dean. At least his brother wouldn't have to go back to Lucifer's cage. As much as Sam hated to admit it, Crowley was the best one to escort Gail in this situation. It was a good thing Cas knew what they were trying to do for him now, because Gail would need his cooperation, too. Maybe Crowley could convince Metatron and Lucifer somehow, or maybe he could force them. They were in his Kingdom, after all. But what could you possibly threaten beings in their position with?

Dean reached across the table and took Gail's hand. "We've gotta do what we've gotta do," he told her. "We'll help you any way we can." His face was grim, but he held her hand gently.

Tears prickled at her eyes. "Thanks, Dean. Thanks, Sam. I was hoping this would be a lot simpler, though. You know, one cup sugar, one cup milk, take three eggs and beat them. Well, I guess we're the three eggs, and Rowena's the one doing the beating. She holds all the cards, and she knows it."

"Yeah, but why is she helping us at all?" Dean said. "What's in it for her?"

Sam and Gail had been wondering that too, of course, but they couldn't think of anything they could do for Rowena in her position. Rowena had joked that she wanted "regular visits", but what was the catch?

They talked about it for a few more minutes, but they were getting nowhere closer to figuring it out. And now Gail was feeling the pull. She needed to get back to the bunker. Cas was starting to lose it. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew.

"We've got to get back, you guys," Gail told them. "Sam, can you go get Oliver? We need to wrap this up."

But Oliver was coming back into the room, almost as if he'd been listening outside for just the right time in the conversation to re-enter. Maybe that's how he got to be so psychic, Gail thought dryly. But she knew that he was the real deal. There was no way he could know as much about her and Cas and their personal life if he wasn't. But Rowena had known, too. Was she that much of an open book?

God was not supposed to panic, but Bobby was doing it now. After discovering that Frank was dead, Bobby had faced Cas, prepared to knock him around enough to disarm and subdue him. But all the fight had gone out of Cas now. He let Bobby take his blade, and the two Angels marched him to the bedroom and inside the Devil's Trap.

Then they had left Cas's room and come out to the library area, where Bobby paced the floor.

"What are we gonna do, Chuck?" he asked the Prophet.

Chuck looked at Bobby, then did a double-take. God was asking him what they should do? Shouldn't he know?

"You revive Frank, of course," Chuck said incredulously. "Then you modify his memory, then none of us ever speak of this again. Do you really want Gail finding out about this?"

Bobby stopped short. The truth was, a part of him did want Gail to find out. Then maybe she'd wake up and take a sip of reality juice. You couldn't keep house with a Demon and expect to live like Ozzie and Harriet. Not even like Ozzy and Sharon. If this was what it took to pry her away from Cas, maybe it was for the best. But then he realized he was letting his personal feelings about his own parents cloud his mind. Gail didn't deserve this kind of heartbreak on top of everything else she'd suffered, and Cas had been infected with a disease. This was different.

It was, however, a moot point.

"What I have to say now can never leave this room," he said to Chuck sternly. "I know I told you not to tell any of this to Kevin and Ethan, and I know you did anyway, but this one thing is off limits. If I ever find out you went and told someone, anyone, what I'm about to tell you, I'll kill you myself and send you back down to Hell. And I ain't kidding. Have we got an understanding, Chuck?"

Chuck was alarmed. He could tell that Bobby was deadly serious. "Sure, Bobby, what is it?"

"I can't revive anybody," Bobby told Chuck. "I never could."

Chuck's mouth dropped open. "But...you're God."

"Yes, and no," Bobby replied miserably. "God left me with most of His powers and all of His problems, but He said He was leaving that one out. In fact, He said the only one who..." he trailed off. Bobby did know someone with the power of revival. He had used this power recently, actually, but with mixed results. Cas was still alive, but the dubious manner in which he had been revived was the proximate cause of the dilemma they were facing now. Balls. Could they convince him to do it? Bobby would have to admit to him that, even though he was God, he couldn't do it. And, could they trust him to do it without screwing around this time?

"Wait here," Bobby said to Chuck. He popped out of the bunker and into his office in Heaven, calling Crowley on the Hotline.

They met at the crossroads, and Bobby explained the situation to Crowley.

Crowley wasn't really surprised; he was just surprised it had taken this long. At least it hadn't been a Winchester. And he'd figured that Bobby had been bluffing all along, though he hadn't been sure enough to call God's bluff. Gail had been crazy, though, moving Castiel into the bunker to be in such close proximity with her loved ones. Of course, if Crowley was in her shoes, he wouldn't have been able to stand being alone in that house with Castiel as long as she had. She had obviously cracked under the pressure.

"How's the seance coming?" Crowley asked Bobby innocently. He had been curious as to how Gail would fare with his mother.

"They're not back yet, and that's why we have to hurry," Bobby growled. Not even a reaction. Crowley knew far more about things than he should, or maybe he had just realized Bobby was bluffing when he'd claimed to have the power of revival. Or maybe Crowley just had a soft spot for Dean. In any event, time was of the essence. He'd have to sort out the consequences later.

Castiel was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. He couldn't believe what had just happened. No, what you have just done, he corrected himself. He couldn't semantic his way out of this one. He had killed Gail's brother in cold blood, and while Frank's back was turned. He couldn't even plead self-defense. So Frank had stabbed him in the shoulder, so what? Bobby had healed Cas automatically after declaring Frank dead. Frank had actually showed remarkable self-restraint, in Castiel's opinion. Frank could have taken that blade and moved it about a foot in the other direction and stabbed Cas right in the chest, and the look Frank had had on his face at that moment suggested he'd considered it. Even though that wouldn't have killed Cas, as he was no longer an Angel, Frank didn't know that, did he? But Frank had pulled off at the last second, and Cas had killed Gail's brother like a coward, like an overgrown child who had had a temper tantrum because he'd received a boo-boo in the playground.

The shock of what he'd done had driven the Demon back for the moment, and Castiel had tried to revive Frank. Hadn't that been the main reason he had agreed to let his Brother leave his Demon essence in Castiel in the first place? Crowley had assured them that Castiel would have acquired his power of revival in the transfer. That was what had ultimately persuaded Gail and Castiel to let it stand. But his attempt to revive Frank hadn't worked. Frank was a human now; it should have been easy. All Castiel would have had to do was to touch him, as Crowley had touched Sam and Dean that day in Dallas. Humans didn't need the breath of essence, as otherworldly beings such as Castiel himself had.

Chuck didn't give you enough time, the Demon tried to whisper, but Cas told It to shut up. He thought back to the conversation he and Gail had had with Crowley when they had been considering Castiel's status. Had Crowley ever actually stated outright that the revival power came with the deal, or had he only alluded to it, letting them draw the conclusion they'd wanted to reach?

Cas was sick with guilt now. True, he hadn't thought that Frank was dead, only wounded. But the fact that Frank WAS dead, and Castiel's touch hadn't brought him back, told Cas all he needed to know. They couldn't even blame Crowley, not really. He hadn't even had to lie to them; they had lied to themselves. And now, the dread crept into Cas's stomach. They would kick him out of the bunker, and Gail would hate him. He had no excuse to offer her, and no amount of charm was going to save him this time. She would never even speak to him again, let alone kiss him, touch him, or hold his hand. How was he supposed to exist now? He remembered the dream he'd had. When he'd realized he'd killed Gail in the dream, Cas had taken his blade and killed himself with it. Why should he not just do the same now?

But he had no blade, of course. They had disarmed him after he'd killed Frank. There was a mirror on the dresser across the room, but he couldn't get to it because he was not able to exit the Devil's Trap. The first thing Dean had done after letting him out of it this morning was to repair it. When he and Gail had had their little interlude earlier, it had taken place outside the Trap and away from the bed. He remembered being amused at the time, almost grateful that the bed was inside the Trap; otherwise, God would probably have had to come pounding on the door, as Dean had. But the Trap was his enemy now. If he could just get over there, he could break the mirror and slash his wrists, then stab himself in the chest with the biggest shard. And that would be for the best all around. He was nothing but a burden to them all now, and a dangerous one, at that. It could be Sam or Dean next, maybe even Gail. The Castiel in him screamed in protest against that thought, but he had to be honest with himself, didn't he? She had certainly suffered enough at his hands already, and who knew what other delights the Demon would have in store for her if he lost the fight and It took him over again? And even if he left her alone, she was going to leave him alone once she discovered he'd killed her brother. And he couldn't live without her. She was his whole reason for existing now.

Cas hung his head and started to cry. Nothing to do now but wait until she came back and found out what he'd done.

Chuck and Bobby carried Frank's body out to the field behind the bunker. Crowley still hadn't said he would do it, but he had come back here with Bobby, at least.

"Chuck," Crowley said, nodding at him coolly.

Chuck nodded back. This was so weird. He didn't trust himself to speak. Chuck hated Crowley, but he didn't want to chance saying anything that would raise the King's temper. He had to do this for them. He just had to. Chuck couldn't stand the thought of Gail receiving the devastating news, on top of everything else she had gone through. Everything Cas had put her through. That last thought snuck through, but Chuck pushed it away. Those kinds of thoughts were how the bad feelings started to grow and fester, and he wasn't that guy any more. Who would he be to stand here and judge anyone else?

Crowley looked down at Frank's dead body. He had spent entirely too much time with this guy, both dead and alive. Why should he revive Frank, anyway? Frank hated him, and Crowley felt nothing but antipathy for Frank. Why should he care if Frank was dead? Who was Crowley bailing out here, anyway? Castiel? His Brother deserved everything he would receive over this. Crowley wished he could get into the bunker so he could see Gail smack Castiel in the face and pack her bags. Crowley could hand her a blade if she wanted to exact a little revenge, and he would make sure it was a Demon blade. Maybe whisper a few reminders in her ear about how she'd looked and felt on Christmas morning.

Gail. There was the problem, in a nutshell. Crowley knew that it would break her heart when she found out that her brother was dead, and that it was Castiel who had killed him. Crowley would never admit it, but this thought was what had really brought him here. Her and her damn doe eyes. Once Crowley had stopped trying to control her and make her life miserable, and once Castiel had started doing those things, Crowley had been able to step back and appreciate Gail as the unique individual she was. Tough but tender, wisecracking but vulnerable. She was stronger than anyone gave her credit for; smarter, too. She made him angry sometimes; especially recently, when she had allowed Castiel to sublimate her. But Crowley respected her now, and he admired her tenacity in pursuing the cure. He hoped she'd told his mother a thing or two today.

"What are you smiling about?" Bobby said irascibly.

Crowley snapped out of his reverie and looked down at Frank's body again. He also owed her the debt from the incident with the Demon Tablet, and though Crowley had claimed she'd cashed in her chit when he had healed her at the warehouse, he'd always intended that to be a freebie. She'd really needed it, and frankly, he had enjoyed it. Pity Castiel hadn't allowed him to do it again; he would have lingered a bit longer next time.

But Crowley wasn't going to make it easy. "I want to see Castiel. Bring him out here."

Bobby sighed heavily. What was Crowley playing at now? Was he going to do it, or wasn't he? It was bad enough that the King of Hell now knew that God couldn't revive a housefly. But Bobby also thought that Cas could benefit from looking at Frank's dead body once again. Let him look at what he'd done and agonize over how Gail would feel about it.

"Just a minute," Bobby said, and disappeared.

Chuck was avoiding Crowley's gaze. The King of Hell watched Chuck look at the sky, the trees, and his shoes. Crowley was amused. So, Chuck was a good guy now.

"Boo," Crowley said suddenly, and Chuck started nervously. Crowley smiled. OK, that had been worth the trip out here alone.

Then Bobby was back with Castiel in tow, and Crowley looked at his Brother curiously. He still had those strange purple eyes, but they were misted over, as if he had been crying.

"So this is your handiwork?" Crowley asked him, gesturing to Frank.

Castiel nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Bobby has asked me to revive him," Crowley said evenly. "Do you think I should do it?"

Castiel still said nothing, but Crowley could see the spark of hope flare in his eyes.

"I'm considering it," Crowley continued. "I just need one thing from you."

Bobby and Chuck exchanged glances. Careful, Cas. Wasn't the Bible full of cautionary tales about this sort of thing? But right now, this was something between two Brothers. And yes, Bobby had ended up telling a flabbergasted Chuck about that too, swearing him to secrecy.

"What is it?" Castiel asked Crowley, his voice shaky.

"Beg me," Crowley said. And he was not smiling now.

They stared at each other for a moment, then incredibly, Castiel sank to his knees. "Please, Brother. I beg you," he said, bowing his head.

Crowley looked down, half-amused and half-amazed. He was actually doing it. Crowley wished he had his cell phone with him; he could create a GIF, and play it over and over. Demon monster or not, Castiel must love Gail more than life itself. For some reason, that thought annoyed him, and Crowley suddenly felt nauseous at seeing his Brother like this.

"Get up," he snapped, and Castiel rose to his feet but continued to hang his head.

Crowley sighed, then he knelt and put his hand on Frank's head. When Frank began to breathe again, Crowley touched Frank's forehead and modified his memory before Frank could open his eyes.

"There," Crowley said, rising again and dusting off his pants where he'd knelt. "He won't remember anything past arriving here earlier. You'd better get him inside before he wonders what's going on. And tell Gail we are now truly even." Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

"All right, Rowena," Gail said once they had brought the witch back from the veil. "We'll proceed as you said. Thank you for the first ingredient." She wanted to sound conciliatory, not give Rowena any reason to get angry. They had not received anything except her word that she would continue to help them, but at least it seemed she had begun to do so. Although how much help the ingredient would be that Rowena had requested remained a mystery, and so did exactly how the hell Gail was supposed to obtain it.

"Believe it or not, even though you did kill me, I bear you no ill will," Rowena lied smoothly. "Women have to stick together, after all, do we not? Just promise me something. Don't let your loyalty become slavery." And about this last part, Rowena was truly sincere. Like her son, Rowena actually did respect Gail in a lot of ways. Pity she had struck a blow for herself by killing Rowena; otherwise, Rowena felt like she could have been a great role model to Gail. Rowena had thrived for centuries, and she had outlived most of her enemies, many of whom had been like her son had been, and like Castiel was now. Men who thought that having a penis gave them the final say in everything that went on in the world. Well, times may be different now, but some attitudes never changed, did they? But Rowena had never let misogyny stop her from doing anything she wanted to do, and she wanted the same for Gail. Full credit to Sam and Dean, though, who had stood down for the most part and let the ladies have their chat. Gail seemed to be taking the lead as far as the cure went, and that was one reason Rowena was helping her. But the main reason was that once Rowena had gotten a look at the list of ingredients Metatron had used, one in particular had caught her eye. If Gail was successful in the Herculean task of obtaining the Originals' essences and then in obtaining the other ingredients she would need, the seventh and final ingredient would be the kicker. Rowena knew that there was no particular order in which the ingredients had to be obtained, so she would save that one for the last. Knowing she was only one ingredient away from the spell that would end her suffering, Gail would have no choice but to acquiesce. And if Gail coud somehow pull off the other ingredients, Rowena would be able to walk the earth again. And then God help any being, man or woman, who tried to stand in her way.

Chapter 5 - Seeing Red

When Gail and the Winchesters got back from the seance, Castiel, Bobby, Chuck and Frank were all sitting around the library table once more. Frank had no recollection of having been in the training room; he thought he had just gotten there a few minutes prior. Bobby had taken Cas and Gail's blades and cleaned them, then put both back where they'd been, and he'd cleaned up the blood that had been on the floor where Frank's body had lain.

And that was pretty much it. By the time that Gail, Sam, and Dean entered the library area, all four men were sitting around shooting the breeze as if one of them hadn't died not an hour ago. Bobby had broached a couple of general topics for discussion, and he had encouraged Frank to tell them about his experiences on the road. Too bad he hadn't thought of that before, or the entire incident in the training room might never have taken place. Frank seemed eager to recount a few tales from his travels. Bobby supposed Frank had been a bit lonely, and he had had to spend Christmas without his sister or his newfound friends.

When Gail walked into the room, she saw Frank and let out a squeal of delight. He stood and she ran to him, launching herself into his arms.

Cas watched this scene with a lump in his throat. He was reminded of the day he had brought Frank back from Hell, and Frank and Gail had had their joyful reunion here. How things had changed since then. Now everything had gotten so bad that God himself had been forced to lie for Castiel, covering up his crime. He owed Bobby and Chuck big time, and he now owed Crowley again, too.

Cas continued to watch Gail and her brother. Frank had said something Cas hadn't caught, and Gail threw her head back and laughed. When was the last time Cas had seen her laugh like that?

She came to him then, and Cas stood, just as he used to do when she walked into the room. It seemed as though the more Demonlike he had become, the more those little courtesies had gone by the wayside. Well, if he got out of this little scrape, Cas promised himself that he would make an effort to reinstate them. He knew it was wrong to take a woman's love for granted, and he had been so scared that he would lose her before Bobby had stepped in to save him.

"How are you doing?" Gail asked him softly. Cas put his arms around her and drew her to him, burying his face in her hair. Just holding her. He could feel her face against his chest and her hands touching his back, and he didn't want to let go of her.

Gail was enjoying their hug, but she wanted to look at his face, see how he looked. She could see that he still had the blue contact lenses in {he had blinked them back in once Frank had been revived}, but she'd had a sense that he had been losing his temper when she and the Winchesters had been sitting around Oliver's table. But when they'd walked in here, things had looked very calm. And what a nice surprise that Frank was here! But Gail was all too aware that Frank and Cas didn't get along that well, to say the least, so she wanted to look into Cas's face.

She tried to pull back, but he kept holding onto her. "Cas, you're suffocating me," she said lightly, and his arms opened right away. He'd better not do anything to annoy her right now.

But the Demon was starting to come back aleady. Cas had thought that the shock of his close call would keep It away a bit longer, but the more time that passed, the stronger It was becoming. It was whispering to him now that he should have left Frank dead. Who had she run to first when she'd entered the room? He's her brother, and she hasn't seen him in a while, Cas argued. And he hates you, the Demon shot back. He's going to get into her head, and poison her mind against you. He'll take her on the road with him and you won't be able to follow her because you'll be stuck in your stupid Devil's Trap.

But Cas could not kill Frank again, not so soon after his scare of earlier today. He would just have to try to drive Frank away, make him want to leave on his own. And he thought he had a way to do that. When Bobby and Chuck left for Heaven, he would begin.

So, after handshakes all around and hugs for Gail, the Angels went back to Heaven, and Frank, Sam and Dean were all having a beer together in the kitchen. Gail had excused herself and left the room, and Cas had trailed behind her.

Frank looked in the direction of the hall. Dean saw his expression. "They do that sometimes. Don't worry about it," he told Frank. He was very glad Frank was here, and not only because he liked Frank, but because he knew they'd give it a rest while Frank was staying here. Frank had made it plain in the past that he did not want to hear anything about that aspect of his sister's life, and Dean didn't think Cas would want to deliberately piss off Gail's brother. They probably just took off to talk in private for a minute. Gail would want to fill Cas in on what had happened at the seance, and they could hardly talk about that around Frank.

Gail did want to talk about the events at the seance, and what they had found out about the first ingredient for the cure. She led Cas into their room and closed the door.

He was right behind her, and when she closed the door and turned around, he began to kiss her. He reached around her and locked the door, then he put his arms on either side of her, his palms leaning against the door. She could easily step out from underneath his arms if she wanted to, but when Cas opened her mouth with his tongue, she couldn't help but respond. OK, they could make out a little, first.

Then Cas put his arms around her, and his hands were roaming now, lifting her top, touching her bare skin.

"Cas," she said, "we need to talk about the seance."

"And we will," he said lightly. He had her top off now, and he was kissing and licking her neck, and moving down. She touched his head, stroking his hair. She was enjoying what he was doing. But when he started to undo her pants, Gail put her hands on his.  
"Cas," she said again. "We can't."

"What you mean is, we shouldn't," he said softly. Then he smiled. "But that's what makes it more exciting." He had her pants open now, and he slid his fingers into them, stroking her. He was pleased to feel that she was ready for him, despite her protests.

Gail gave up. Once his fingers or his tongue went there, she was gone. She started to move against his hand, and he nuzzled her cheek. His stubble scratched her a bit, but she had never minded that, as long as he wasn't too rough with it.

He licked her ear, whispering, "I only want to make you happy. Please let me."

She really wanted him to. But they were right by the door, and she'd always had trouble being quiet. "Maybe we should go over to the bed," she said softly.

"Then I won't be able to get back out," Cas said to her. He sank to his knees, kissing and licking her stomach. He eased her pants off of her hips, looking up at her. "You can be quiet, I'm sure," he said, smiling. But she couldn't, and he knew that, of course.

Gail stepped out of her pants, one leg at a time. Cas was helping her, and he was kissing and nuzzling her hip now. Oh, she really shouldn't be doing this. But the seance had been so stressful, and now she had the added stress of keeping everything a secret from her brother. Even though she'd been thrilled to see Frank, if he was going to be here for a while, it was going to be harder for Gail to do what she needed to do to get the ingredients for the cure. Maybe she could get Sam and Dean to take him somewhere for a bit.

But first, there was this. Cas was on his knees in front of her, and he gently spread her legs and began using his tongue. His hands were on her hips, holding her steady but not hurting, and it felt amazing. She started to whimper, then clapped a hand over her mouth. Her back was against the door; it wouldn't take much for her to be heard.

Cas smiled, intensifying his efforts, and then he made himself stop for a moment. Should he get her to ask him to continue? Say she loved him? Demon Cas knew he could pretty much get her to say or do anything at this point; at least, she'd better, if she wanted him to continue. But her Cas did just want to make her happy, and he was thankful for the chance to still be able to do so after what had happened earlier.

So he did tease her for a moment, but he made no verbal demands. Then, when he resumed, he sped up his motion, and it was a good thing he was holding her hips in place because her knees were starting to tremble. She had both hands clamped over her mouth now, but it was so intense that the sounds were escaping anyway. Cas smiled again. He wished he could reach up and remove her hands, but what he was doing was proving very effective, anyway. He was sure Frank could hear her by now.

"Cas," she said through her hands, and he paused long enough to say, "Yes, Gail?"

He was being so sweet, and she needed to tell him so before she lost the ability to speak. So Gail removed her hands from her mouth to tell him that she loved him, and when Cas saw that, he pulled her closer to him and sped up, and she cried out involuntarily. It was so good. Gail felt like he was going to collapse. Cas pushed her against the door to hold her upright, but he pushed a little harder than he'd intended, and her body slammed against the door. But she was feeling too good to worry about that now, and she leaned against the door, breathing heavily and making her sounds. Cas lingered a minute, enjoying the taste of her. There. Frank would definitely have heard that. He smiled again.

Frank had been hearing sounds, all right, and his jaw was clenching. Sam and Dean heard them too, and they had been trying to keep up the stream of conversation to cover them up. But Frank was no idiot, and as the sounds grew louder, his expression grew darker. His hand gripped his beer bottle so hard Sam thought it was going to break. Sam looked at Dean, who was fuming. Damn Cas. What the hell was the matter with him? But they knew what the matter was, of course. The Demon wanted to do whatever it wanted to do, and it didn't give a crap what anyone else thought about it. He and Sam had been subjected to the same thing last night, all night.

After another minute or so passed, Frank had had enough. He stood abruptly. "Sorry, guys, I know he's your friend. But I'm gonna have to go and kick his ass now."

Dean rose too, and he stood in front of Frank, putting his hands up. "Whoa," he said, trying to smile. "Can't you just - "

"Could you?" Frank retorted, and Dean sighed. He had a point there. Dean kind of felt like kicking Cas's ass himself right now.

Then they heard the slam of Gail's body against the door, and heard her cry out. And while her cry could have been interpreted a couple of different ways, the men hadn't liked that slamming sound. Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances. Frank hadn't seen her on Christmas morning, or heard anything about the marks all over her body. But they had.

They ran down the hallway to the bedroom door. Sam tried the knob, but of course, it was locked.

"Gail? Are you OK?" he called out through the door.

Damn, Gail thought. Now she'd done it. She reached down to grab her clothes from the floor.

"Fine, Sam," she said hurriedly, but her voice sounded panicked to him. And she WAS panicked; she was completely naked, and she could just bet all three of them were standing on the other side of the door. Thank God Cas had locked it.

Cas was still smiling. She rolled her eyes, trying to step into her pants. But she was still feeling jelly-legged from a moment ago, and she lost her balance. He caught her, but his grip was strong and his fingers dug into one of the more painful bruises she had on her arm. "Ow!" she cried, wincing in pain.

That was enough for Sam. "Open up this door right now, Cas, or we're breaking it down!" he barked.

Frank looked at Sam. Why did he look so mad, and so scared at the same time? Frank was pissed off, but Sam looked panicked.

"Just a minute," Cas said. He wanted to give Gail a chance to get her clothes back on. He didn't want Sam enjoying the view.

Sam was about to break it down anyway, but Dean grabbed him. "Wait," he said. "We'd better get - " He gestured to the training room, and Sam nodded, understanding what Dean was trying to tell him. They'd gone to Oliver's unarmed, and they'd better get weapons in case Cas was in full-on Demon mode.

Dean ran to the training room, coming back with knives for each of the men. He handed Frank's to him, and Frank stared at it. Why had Dean given him a Demon knife? In fact, that's what all three of them had. Had Dean just been in such a hurry that he'd grabbed the first weapons he'd laid his hands on?

"We're coming in," Sam announced, but just before they could break down the door, they heard it unlock and Gail peered out.

"What's the matter, you guys" she said, puzzled. She now realized they must have heard her sounds of pleasure, and she'd be embarrassed about that in a minute, but why were they so panicked, talking about breaking the door down over a little amorous activity? She saw the Demon knives they were holding, and her eyes widened. Then she realized. They'd heard her hitting the door, and had misinterpreted the sound.

"Everything's OK," she told them. "You don't need to worry."

She only had the door open a crack, and Frank couldn't see her from where he was standing. He was highly suspicious now. Dean had armed them all, and he and Sam had looked scared. Frank was starting to put two and two together, and he didn't like the sum. "I'll be the judge of that," he said. "Open the door, Gail."

"I'll be out in a minute, Frank," he heard her say. Incredibly, he saw her start to close the door again. Yeah, he didn't think so.

Frank shoved Sam to the side and put his hand on the door, pushing it open. Gail had no choice but to step back and let her brother come in.

He looked at her, then at Cas, eyes narrowed. Then something caught Frank's eye, and his eyes dropped to the floor around the bed. To the Devil's Trap painted there.

Frank stood stock-still, stunned beyond belief. This had to be some kind of elaborate practical joke they were all pulling on him. Yeah, that had to be it. But he looked at all of their faces in turn, and no one was cracking a smile or saying "Gotcha!" And they hadn't even known he was coming, because he hadn't known himself. He'd just come back on impulse, wanting to check up on Gail.

Gail could see the look on her brother's face as he began to recover from the shock and started to reason things out. She'd seen his half-smile when he'd thought they were pulling a prank on him. And that would have been a pretty good one, too, she thought sadly.

"What the hell's going on here?" Frank asked the room in general. No one said anything. What could they possibly say? Frank looked at each of them again. "Somebody better say something right now, or I'm going to start kicking some ass!" Frank said, raising his voice. Then he glared at Gail. "And you know I don't discriminate."

Gail sighed. This was her brother, so it was her responsibility. "Let's all go back into the kitchen, Frank," she said, putting her hand on her brother's arm. "We can get you a drink to calm you down, and we'll try to explain."

Frank jerked his arm away from his sister's touch. He was pretty sure he knew what was going on now. Cas was staring at the Demon knives in the mens' hands, and he had that look that vampires got when you were holding a crucifix. Which was extremely ironic, if you thought about it.

Gail saw Frank look at Cas, and she saw the knuckles turn white on his knife hand. "Don't, Frank," she said. "Let us explain, please. It's not his fault."

But Sam had been hearing this from her for way too long now, and he was getting sick of it. Maybe nothing much had happened this time, but how about all the other times? "Would you just stop defending him, Gail?" he yelled. "What about the marks you've got all over you? Are you trying to say those aren't his fault, either?"

Gail looked at Sam, annoyed. Thanks, Sam. That wasn't exactly helping. Now Frank was going to freak out.

And her brother did. He grabbed her and lifted her top, as decently as he could considering how angry he was now. And there they were. Though Gail had begun to heal, she still had multi-coloured bruises and some angry-looking welts on her midsection. And those were the tip of the proverbial iceberg, she thought ruefully. It was a good thing Frank couldn't see her lower half.

Frank let go of Gail and went for Cas with the knife, but Sam and Dean grabbed him from behind. "Stand down, Frank," Dean panted, struggling to hold Gail's brother. "Would you?" Frank retorted angrily. And there wasn't much Dean could say to that, because Frank was right. Dean wouldn't, and he was ashamed that he hadn't already kicked the crap out of Cas back when he first suspected that this was happening. Maybe that would have served as a deterrent, or at least as a warning.

But they were stuck with this situation now, and Frank's rage was making him incredibly strong.

"Take Cas and get him to the safe room!" Dean barked at Gail. She looked at him blankly.

"The room where he was a guest before!" Sam shouted at her. Then she got it. They were talking about the room where they'd held Cas prisoner before she'd freed him. She grabbed Cas's hand and pulled him out of the bedroom, and they raced to the storage room. She punched in the code that opened the hidden door and once they were safely inside, she turned to Cas.

He was looking at her, trying to keep his gaze steady. But Cas was starting to panic. Too many people were finding out about him now, and soon everyone would know. The part of him that was still good was deeply ashamed of the marks he'd put on Gail's body, and he had made sure there had been no new ones. But he knew how bad it looked, and now Gail's brother had seen. Frank hated Cas already, and now he knew that Cas was a Demon. Thank God for Sam and Dean's intervention. If Cas had been Frank, and he had seen those marks on Gail, there wouldn't have been an army big enough to hold him back from the person who was responsible for them.

And here she was, protecting him again. Cas felt sick to his stomach.

But the Demon was weighing in now, cursing Cas's stupidity. This was what mercy and compassion got you. If he'd let well enough alone, Frank would be dead, and he wouldn't be around now to make things difficult. Of course, that had been Bobby's doing, but still... Crowley had told Castiel to beg, and he had done so, just like a dog. How humiliating. And all for what? So they could bring Frank back to life only to stick a Demon knife in Cas's chest? No, that wouldn't be happening.

There was a knock on the door, and Gail opened it a crack. "Sammy and I got him calmed down a bit," Dean told her. "But you guys better stay in here for a while until we can talk to him and explain what's going on." His eyes moved to the chair with the Devil's Trap around it. "Unless you want to come with us, Gail?" They could put Cas in the chair and leave him here, Dean was thinking. He was tempted to do that, anyway. Dean had almost forgotten how bad Gail's injuries had really been.

Gail looked at Cas. He looked so upset. And understandably so. If Frank had been able to get to him with the Demon knife, he would have cut Cas to ribbons. She would have to express her gratitude to Sam and Dean later, when everything calmed down. "It's okay, Dean. I'll stay here with Cas," she told Dean. Dean rolled his eyes. Big surprise. Thank God there was no bed in here, or they might never see them again. "I have to tell Cas about the seance," Gail added. She hadn't gotten around to that yet.

"OK," Dean said. "Stay in here until Sam or I come to get you. Don't answer if there's only a knock." He had knocked a moment ago, but Dean realized he should be using the code. If Frank went on the rampage and somehow found this door before Sam and Dean could stop him, Frank wouldn't be able to get in without the code. And only Sam, Dean, Cas and Gail had it.

"Right," Gail said. "Thanks, Dean." He turned to leave, and she shut the door behind him.

Gail turned back to Cas and began to tell him about the seance. She left out the crude references Rowena had made to Cas's size and prowess, but aside from that, she told him everything.

Cas was apprehensive. The last place he wanted to go was Lucifer's cage. He didn't particularly care about having to see Metatron again, and he obviously had no aversion to going to Hell now, but Lucifer? Truthfully, that particular Brother scared the hell out of Castiel. Maybe it was because the two had never met, but Cas had seen the end result of Lucifer's work in Sam and Bobby. If he could do that to two relatively well-adjusted men, what could Lucifer do with Cas's screwed-up psyche? Cas's mind and emotions would be a veritable playground for him. And Cas and Gail were supposed to walk in there hand in hand, offering themselves up to Lucifer's scrutiny, like sacrificial lambs? If they had any secrets at all going in there, he was sure they would have none coming out. And if Lucifer started in on Gail, there would be nothing Cas could do about it. He couldn't believe she'd already had the courage to face Lucifer once. And here she was, volunteering to go in there again in an attempt to get their essences for the cure. Though neither he nor Gail had any idea how they were going to make that happen. What on earth could possibly ever motivate Metatron and Lucifer to help them?

Gail shrugged. She still had no clue, and she hadn't even had a moment to think about it. She started looking around the room for something she could put on the floor to sit on. She knew her brother; they could be here a while. Boy, was she ever going to owe Sam and Dean, big time.

Jackpot. She found an air mattress behind a shelving unit. What was that doing here? In case the boys needed a nap between torture sessions, maybe? Oh well, who cared? At least she and Cas could sit in comfort while they waited. She'd thought about the chair, but once again, he wouldn't be able to get out of it. They couldn't just keep scratching him out of the Traps all the time.

She brought out the mattress and put it on the floor. "Have a seat, if you want," she told Cas. "If I know Frank, this might take a while." She smiled wryly. "We may have to have our mail forwarded here, actually."

Cas smiled. She was so cute. He couldn't believe how stoic she was being about this whole thing. Of course, look at everything she had gone through in the past year. There came a point when you would just have to go with it or it would eat you alive. That was one of Cas's many problems. There were a lot of things from his past that he had never been able to let go of, and they had sat inside him and festered, as untreated wounds would. That was just one of the reasons he was so screwed up now, poison or no poison. Every self-doubt he had ever had, every mistake he had ever made, every regret, he let build inside of him; and he had never quite been able to let them go because a part of him had wanted to hold onto them. It was said that one of the hardest lessons in life was learning how to let go. Whether it be guilt, anger, love, loss or betrayal. Change was never easy. You had to fight to let go, and sometimes, you had to fight to hold on.

That was what Cas was going to try to do now. Gail was here with him at the moment, but he knew his hold on her was tenuous. He sat down on the air mattress and gestured to her. "Come here, Gail," he said softly. "Please."

She came to his side, of course, as she always did. He took her hands in his. "I just wanted to say thank you," Cas said to her. "Thank you for standing by me, and thank you for everything you're doing for the cure."

Gail smiled. "I love you, Cas. You would do the same for me. You've saved me many times. We'll get through this, the same way we've gotten through everything else. Together."

Cas couldn't believe how fortunate he was. After everything he'd put her through recently, she was still here, saying she loved him. And he wasn't even making her say it. He took her in his arms and kissed her softly on the forehead.

"Lay with me for a while," Castiel said to her, and he laid down on the mattress, bringing her with him. They cuddled for a bit, but then the Demon wanted more, and his hands began to roam. Cas kissed Gail, then he pried her mouth open with his tongue and she gave him hers. This was how the trouble always started, but neither of them could seem to stop. And the poison in Cas's system, and Gail's to a lesser extent, was only the catalyst. Each of them felt like the other was the only one who truly loved and understood them, and they had spun a cocoon around themselves, thinking it would shield them from the rest of the universe. This felt like the tribunal all over again; but this time the enemy wasn't Xavier and the board. It was the Demons inside both of them, and only some of them had been manufactured by Metatron.

So Cas took off her clothes, and then he took off his, and they were at it again, oblivious to their surroundings. Cas was inside her, and she had her legs wrapped around him, and they were moving together almost as if they were one person. The deeper he went into her, the deeper her legs urged him in. A perfect metaphor for their relationship now.

Sam and Dean had been talking to Frank for quite a while now, and he was about as calm as he was going to get about the situation. Dean had poured them all a few shots, and he and Sam had filled Frank in on most of the stuff that had been going on from the time that Frank had been there last. They left out a few details that Frank didn't really need to know, and downplayed the severity of Gail's injuries to spare him, but Frank wasn't an idiot, and what they had told him was bad enough.

Frank was still angry, and he was frustrated, too. "I know you're telling me that Cas has been poisoned, but why the hell is she still with him if he's been treating her so badly?" Frank fumed. "Why isn't she staying here alone, until you guys can cure him? Or why doesn't she come on the road with me?"

Sam and Dean exchanged uncomfortable glances. Frank was asking some very logical questions, questions that they'd certainly be asking if they were in his position. But he really wasn't going to like the answers.

Cas was kissing the marks on Gail's body now, wishing he had his Brother's ability to heal them. Not only did he want Gail's skin to be pristine again, free of the evidence of his past violence, but he would love to be able to make it up to her somehow. He had asked her about it, and she had claimed they were healing, but he still hated to see them there. He had been nothing short of an animal, and she had been right to leave him when she had. He could see the hatred in everyone's faces when they looked at him now, and Cas knew he deserved it. And now Frank had seen. What was Frank going to do?

At the moment, Frank was in no shape to do anything. Sam and Dean had just told him the devastating news. The reason his sister was still with Cas was because a part of her liked what Cas was doing to her. And the reason a part of her liked it was because she had Cas's diseased blood inside of her now, and a dose of Crowley's, as well.

Frank looked at the brothers in amazement. Were they actually telling him that Cas had held her down and forcibly injected her with his own poisoned blood? Well, if that was the case, they'd better buy homeowners' insurance right now, because Frank was going to tear the bunker apart looking for Cas, and then Frank was going to tear him limb from limb. He knew they had Cas and Gail hidden away in some kind of panic room or something. Well, Cas had better panic, Frank thought grimly.

"No, that's not what we're telling you," Dean said uncomfortably. "What we're telling you is...apparently, she let him."

Frank felt like he was going to puke. Who was his sister now? Had she really changed that much in the year he'd been gone? Frank felt like crap. Yes, it hadn't been his fault that he'd left her, but Frank somehow felt responsible anyway. He was glad she'd met Sam and Dean, though. Frank felt like they were good men who had tried their best, but they weren't perfect, and they couldn't be everywhere. But at least Cas and Gail were here now, under the brothers' watchful eyes, and they vowed to Frank that they wouldn't let Cas hurt her again.

So, thank Heaven for small favours. Still, she now had some of Crowley's blood in her now, too. Again. Although this time she had willingly accepted it from him as her price of admission to Lucifer's cage. Frank shook his head, trying to picture the scene as Dean described it. The past year had been hard enough on Gail, but now she was part Demon and part Angel, living willingly with an abusive Demon hybrid boyfriend, and rubbing shoulders with the likes of Crowley and Lucifer. He'd missed seeing her on Christmas Day, but from what Frank was now hearing, he was glad. Exactly what did you buy the bride of the anti-Christ for Christmas, anyway? And could Frank even bring himself to talk to his sister right now, let alone make that joke to her?

But the bottom line was that she WAS his sister, and Frank loved her. They had been so close for so long since life had risen up and bitten them both in the ass when their parents had been brutally murdered, and the hits had just kept on coming. He'd been out of her life for the past year, and look how screwed up things had gotten. Well, he was here now, and she needed him.

"I want to talk to them," Frank told Sam and Dean. The brothers exchanged glances. "I'm OK, guys, really," Frank assured them. "I just need to tell Gail I'm here for her. And I'll try to keep it together with Cas, but I need to talk to him, too."

Dean sighed. He supposed Frank was entitled. "Do you wanna get them, or should I?" he said to Sam.

Sam frowned. "You go get them." Cas and Gail were in a locked room alone together, and he had a pretty good idea what they would be doing. Sam was tired of thinking about that, and he sure as hell didn't need to hear it again.

So Dean went to the safe room. He went to punch in the code, but the same thing had occurred to him, and he stopped. He listened at the door. Nothing.

"I'm coming in, you guys," Dean said through the door. "Are you..." he searched for a word "...decent?"

"Relatively speaking," Gail quipped. She and Cas were actually dressed, for a change. They'd already had their session, and they'd known one of the brothers would be coming back to get them.

Dean punched in the code and entered the room. He saw them sitting on the air mattress and rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten that was in here. It figured they'd have found it, and he was sure they'd made use of it. He'd have to burn it later. But at least they were dressed now.

"Frank wants to talk to you both," Dean told them, and they exchanged glances.

"How does he seem?" Gail asked him.

"Pissed off," Dean said shortly, looking at Cas. Dean was happy to see he was looking a little shamefaced. Good. Let him sweat a bit.

Gail sighed. She wouldn't have expected any different. She rose, extending her hand to Cas. "We'd better go face the music, then," she said to him.

He frowned, but he got up too, taking her hand. That was easy for her to say. For all Frank's bluster earlier, it wouldn't be Gail's cute little ass that Frank would be looking to kick.

"Has he calmed down any?" Cas asked Dean as they all exited the room.

"I don't know," Dean told him cheerfully. "I guess you're just gonna have to find out. Hey, if you want to dance, you have to pay the piper, right, Cas?"

Cas was looking a little green now, and Dean smiled inwardly. Served him right. Too bad they hadn't had Frank here last night.

Frank and Sam were sitting in the library area when the trio came out, and Sam had to smile at Cas's expression. He was thinking along the same lines as Dean. Frank's jaw was clenched, but he remained seated.

"Would you leave us alone for a few minutes, guys?" Frank said to Sam and Dean.

Gail was studying her brother's face. "Do you promise you won't - " she started to say.

Frank gave Cas a baleful look. "I can promise I'll try not to," he said.

Gail sighed again. She supposed that would have to be good enough. She started to pull up a chair across from Frank, but Cas moved quickly to pull it out for her. Frank rose as soon as he'd seen Cas move like that towards her, and Cas looked at him, frowning. "I was only - " he gestured to the chair as Gail sat down. Frank sat again, but slowly. Cas was conflicted. Should he sit down, or not? He looked down. There were no Devil's Traps under any of the chairs now. He guessed he could bail at any time if Frank went on the attack. So he sat beside Gail, taking her hand; he needed the support.

Sam looked at Gail. "Are you gonna be all right?" he asked her. She shrugged. What was he asking her that for? Was there anything about this that was all right?

Dean and Sam left the room, and Frank looked at his sister and her boyfriend. "They told me what's going on," Frank said to them, and then he looked at Gail. "The question is, why didn't YOU tell me?"

Gail laughed shortly. "Come on, Frank. How could I possibly have told you about this?"

Frank could see her point, but it still hurt him that his sister hadn't felt like she was able to confide in him and receive his support. "I could have helped you," he told her.

"How, Frank? How could you have helped?" Gail asked him.

Frank sighed now. He honestly didn't know. "I just...I don't know, Gail. I just want you to be able to talk to me. We used to talk all the time."

"Well, maybe if you didn't get so mad all the time, I could talk to you more," she replied.

Frank was annoyed, but he took a deep breath. He looked at Cas. "It's a little hard not to be mad when I see what he's done to you," he said pointedly.

Cas frowned, but he said nothing. He actually respected Frank at this moment. He'd have felt the same way. If he and Frank could somehow form a bond around their love for Gail, maybe they could find a way to co-exist.

Frank wanted to try to find a way to co-exist, too. Sam and Dean had told him that they were working on the cure, but it would probably be a long and difficult process, and Frank couldn't spend the whole time this angry or he'd explode. But he wanted his pound of flesh first, and he wanted to send Cas a very clear message.

"It stops now," he said to Cas. "I guess there's nothing I can do about the other stuff. Gail's an adult, and if, IF," he emphasized, "she's consenting, it's her business. But if I see or hear anything, anything that makes me suspect you're hurting her in any way, Sam and Dean won't be able to hold me back the next time. Are we clear?"

Cas's respect for Frank grew. "Yes, we're clear, Frank," he responded. "I don't want to hurt your sister. I love her." He squeezed Gail's hand, and she smiled at him.

Frank was somewhat mollified, but he frowned. He'd have felt better if Cas had said he wouldn't hurt Gail, instead of that he didn't want to. Was his choice of words deliberate, or was Frank reading too much into it because of his dislike for the guy? He sighed.

"What about this cure?" Frank asked them. "Sam and Dean told me it could take a while. Do you think you should really be staying in the same room right now?" he said to Cas.

Cas's expression darkened. "Are you trying to separate us, Frank?" He let go of Gail's hand in case he squeezed too hard.

"Maybe just until you get the cure," Frank said evenly.

"That's not going to happen," Cas told him. He should have figured Frank was going to try this. No one was going to take Gail away from him. No one.

Frank looked at Gail. "What do you have to say about this?" he asked her. Though he thought he already knew.

Gail hesitated for a moment. Truthfully, she had considered it, for about a millisecond. She knew the sounds coming out of their room were audible, and that they'd been pissing Sam and Dean off. And now Frank was here, too. But she enjoyed what she and Cas did. As long as he wasn't hurting her any more, she still felt like what they did together was an expression of their love for each other. And as a stress reliever, it couldn't be beaten. And if anyone was entitled to a stress reliever right now, it was certainly her.

"I don't want to do that, Frank. If it bothers you, maybe you'd better get a motel room, or something," she told him.

Cas took her hand in both of his now, caressing it. Good girl. He'd been a little worried that Frank might influence her, but he shouldn't have worried. He knew she loved what they did. She was certainly not shy about expressing it, either. He smiled.

Frank rolled his eyes. Of course. He made an effort to remind himself that the couple both had Demon inside of them, and Frank remembered what that was like. He supposed he should even give Cas a bit of a break about that. Frank had been no better, really. Look at how he'd been with Odette. But Gail was his sister, and that made it different, somehow.

"I'm sticking around, Gail," Frank said. How could he leave her alone now? If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself. He'd just have to try to suck it up. Maybe wear headphones at night so he wouldn't want to rip the ears off his own head.

He looked at Cas again. "I want to talk to Gail alone for a minute," Frank said to him.

Cas frowned. Here it came. As soon as he left the room, the poisoning of Gail's mind against him would start. He looked at Gail. She gave him a half-shrug. "It's OK, Cas," she said, as if she knew what he was thinking. And maybe she did. They'd communicated non-verbally many times.

"Go see Sam and Dean," she said to him. Then she smiled. "Show them you're still in one piece."

He knew she was joking, but the Demon in him scoffed at that. As if the likes of Frank could ever harm him. He'd already killed Frank once today; he wouldn't hesitate to do so again if he needed to. But they had Frank calmed now, and the Demon wanted to keep him that way. It would be easier to do what he wanted to do if Gail's brother wasn't in his face all the time.

So Cas rose, but he looked down at Gail once more. "I'll be in the kitchen. If you need me, just call," he told her.

Gail nodded. She didn't see why she would need him, though. This was Frank; he probably just wanted to read her the riot act about her behaviour with Cas. Nothing she couldn't handle.

Then Cas left the room, and she looked at Frank evenly. "OK. Let me have it," she said.

But Frank just looked at her sadly. "Are you OK, Gail? Really?" he said.

Her eyes welled up. Damn it. She'd rather he'd have yelled at her. "You're playing dirty now," she said to him, smiling through her tears.

"I'm not playing, Gail," Frank said seriously. He reached out and poured a shot from the whiskey bottle that Dean had left on the table. He downed it, then poured another.

Gail sighed. "Maybe you'd better give me one of those, too," she said to him, gesturing to the bottle.

Frank raised his eyebrows. He was about to say that Angels didn't drink, what was she doing, and then he remembered. She had three shots of Demon in her now, didn't she? He shrugged. These weren't the circumstances under which he'd have liked to have a drink with his sister, but, what the hell. He poured her a shot and slid it over to her. She downed it, then made a face.

"There's a reason I used to put ginger ale in this," she quipped, and they shared a smile. That felt good to her, so she slid the glass back to him. "Hit me again," she said.

Frank frowned, but he poured another and slid it back to her.

"A toast," Gail said, and she lifted the glass to him. "To us, and our screwed-up lives. And to trying to make them better."

Frank raised his glass, and they clinked. "Amen," he said, and they downed their shots. "Sorry, didn't mean to offend," Frank cracked, and Gail stared at him, incredulous. Then they laughed. It was the blackest of humour, but they'd had the blackest of lives, starting with when they'd discovered their slaughtered parents in the living room of the family home and then had gone on the run together. This was the way they'd been with each other ever since, and Gail welcomed it now. It was familiar, and she needed it right now.

"Thanks, Frank," Gail said, wiping her eyes. "I needed that."

But he stopped laughing now. "How could you let him hurt you like that?" he asked her. "That's not the Gail I know."

She sighed. "There's no easy answer to that, Frank," she replied. "And there's nothing I could say to you about it that you'd want to hear."

Frank gestured to her glass and she slid it over to him. He poured them both another shot, and Gail looked at hers, debating. She was already starting to feel its effects on her, and though the feeling was kind of soothing, the fact that it was having any effect on her at all was only serving to remind her that she wasn't an Angel any more. Then she shrugged. If Frank really wanted to talk about this, she needed all the liquid courage she could get. And she realized now that she wanted to talk about it. She hadn't been able to really talk to anybody but Cas since this whole thing had started, and he was, of course, the cause of this particular issue. She had tried to confide in Jody, but she didn't know Jody all that well. Gail had known Frank all her life, and he was trying to reach out to her.

So Gail downed the shot and then looked at Frank. "I liked it," she said to him. She saw him wince, but she had to say this before she lost her nerve. "He makes me feel incredible, Frank, and we're incredible together." Her brother opened his mouth, but she held up her hand. "Please, Frank. Just let me say my piece and then I'll be done. You asked the question," she pointed out. He nodded in acknowledgement. Yeah, he had.

Gail took a deep breath, then continued, "It didn't just happen overnight, you know. It's not like he hauled off and whacked me one, or anything. It's not like those Lifetime movies I used to make you watch." They gave each other a half-smile over that. "It's just..." She searched for the words. "The darker he got, and the darker I got, the marks on me were just collateral damage. I wouldn't even feel the pain while it was happening, because everything else just felt so good. I know that's hard for you to hear, but it's true. Once Cas and I discovered each other in that way in Las Vegas, we were so happy. But then we went back to being Angels, and we thought we couldn't do it any more, even though we really wanted to. And then there was the tribunal. You have no idea what that did to us, Frank. Nobody does. I don't know if we'll ever completely get over it. They persecuted us, they separated us, and then they killed Cas and made me watch. And these were Angels, Frank! So when Crowley brought Cas back to life, I felt grateful to him for that, and I resented Heaven so much. We didn't know what that revival did to him at the time, but even when we found out later, we didn't care. I liked the way he was. He was more confident, and I liked him taking the lead in the bedroom. There were other reasons why we decided to leave a bit of Demon in him, and they were important ones, but I don't want to go into all that right now. I want to stay on point cause I'm nearly finished. We didn't know about what Metatron did to that stupid potion in the cabin, so we didn't know how bad Cas was going to get. And by the time I realized how badly I was getting hurt, I tried to put a stop to it. But, let's be honest. Demon sex isn't always gentle. And that's all I have to say on the subject, except to say that he's fighting it, and he hasn't hurt me like that in days. So things have gotten better."

There. She'd gotten through it. Gail sat back in her chair. She contemplated asking for another shot, but she supposed she'd better not. The alcohol she'd had was already lowering her inhibitions, and as she'd been picturing what she was describing to Frank, she'd been starting to feel excited. She wasn't exactly pure in this situation herself, and she'd wanted Frank to know that, so he wouldn't blame Cas alone. And she'd wanted to make sure that Frank knew that Cas had never raised a hand to her. She would never have put up with that.

Frank poured them both another shot, and he raised his glass to her. "I salute your honesty," he said sardonically, and downed his. Gail frowned. "You asked," she said tartly, and then she downed hers.

Frank sighed. "OK, Gail. Setting aside the ick factor in hearing that from your sister, it just so happens you're right. You confessed to me, so I'll confess to you. When I was with Crowley, he sent a woman to me who I treated the same way. Worse, actually. But I didn't love her; I didn't even know her. I just used her, then I abused her, and then I killed her."

Gail's mouth opened. It was hard for her to hear this from her brother, but: "You're not suggesting that my situation is the same, are you?" she said to him.

Frank didn't exactly know what he was suggesting, if he was even suggesting anything. He'd just felt like confiding in her in return, after she'd been so brave as to share what she'd shared with him. And he'd been wanting to unburden himself about that particular episode for some time now. But she was right, it wasn't the same; at least not from her point of view. Frank had been the aggressor in his situation. He hadn't needed to worry about any marks on his body, or any pain. It was easy for him to say, wasn't it?

"I'm sorry, Gail," he told her. "I know it's not the same."

"No, it's not," she emphasized. "Whatever else has happened to us, Cas and I love each other, and we're never going to stop." She smiled. She shouldn't have had that last shot. Now she was picturing Cas licking his way down her body, and what was going to happen once he got there. Then she would reciprocate, doing it in the way she knew he liked. Cas would need to thank that whiskey bottle later.

"I need to see Cas," she said abruptly, and she stood quickly. Her head swam a bit, and she smiled, looking at her empty glass. What a lightweight she was now. When she'd grown to be an adult and Frank had taken her to a bar sometimes, she'd been able to hold her liquor pretty well.

Frank frowned. They'd better get working on that cure soon, or he was going to spend a lot of his time here throwing up. But she was already gone, wobbling down the hall.

"Cas!" she called out, and he came down the hall immediately, Sam and Dean trailing behind him. Frank was behind Gail now, and Cas gave him a dark look, then he looked at Gail.

"What's the matter?" he asked her.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see you," she told him, touching his face.

He smiled, nuzzling her hand. Then he licked her palm.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances with Frank. They sure as hell didn't want to see this.

"Let's go out to the garage, Frank," Dean said. "Work on the cars for a while."

Frank sidled around the couple, towards Sam and Dean. Sounded good to him. "Come with us, Sam," Frank said, touhing Sam's arm. He could see Sam staring at the two of them, and now Frank thought he was starting to get a clue about something else, too. Oh, boy. That was all they needed now.

Cas had Gail by the hand and was leading her to the bedroom. He didn't give a damn what the men thought right now. Let them go work on their cars. He had something else to work on, right here. His darkening eyes had looked into Gail's darkening eyes. She was inviting the Demon over for a play date, and he wasn't about to say no to that.

Gail was helping him undress, and her hands were shaking. He grabbed them and kissed them, amused. "Allow me, it'll be faster," Cas said, and he finished taking his clothes off as she watched him. Hers were already off, and he looked at her as he undressed, appreciating the view. He'd smelled the alcohol on her breath, and he had a pretty good idea what was going on. He should be thanking Frank. Maybe he'd have to install a bar at the house and keep it regularly stocked, if she was going to behave like this when she drank now.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he glanced down at the Devil's Trap. Oh, there was a trap, all right, but it wasn't on the floor. It was on the bed, and it was smiling at him. But he didn't mind. If he had to be trapped, there was no better circumstance he could think of. He'd just have to make sure she didn't leave until they were done.

He came to the side of the bed where she was sitting, and she leaned down and took him in her mouth. As an opening move, he certainly couldn't argue with it. He put his hands on the back of her head and closed his eyes, moaning with pleasure. He started to move, concentrating on the feeling. Then she did that teasing thing, and he tried to wait it out, but he was too excited now. He pushed himself into her mouth and grabbed the back of her head, bringing it forward. She gagged a little, but she had started it, after all. He smiled. He felt amazing, and she was taking it all. He cried out, pushing forward one more time, and then he was still.

Gail pulled her head away. Phew. That had been a little rough, but she had invited it, hadn't she? Cas was smiling down at her, though, and he looked so happy.

He reached down and brought her up to kiss him, and then he scooped her up and laid her down on the bed. He lay on top of her, opening her mouth with his tongue, and she responded eagerly. Then he ran his tongue down her body, pausing at a couple of places he particularly liked, and teased her by licking the insides of her thighs. A little payback for her earlier teasing, maybe.

"Cas," she said.

"Yes?" he replied, smiling.

"Please, Cas," she entreated him. He looked up at her. She was so cute when she pleaded. But she'd just made him feel so good, so he supposed it was unfair to make her wait. He used his tongue on her, and she started to moan immediately. He smiled. He'd have to buy a case of whiskey and always keep it in the house. "Oh, Cas, it's so good," Gail breathed. He sped up. "It's so good!" she cried out. And it was. He brought her closer to him and drank in the taste of her eagerly. Who needed whiskey?

Then they cuddled for a bit, kissing and caressing each other, and he was ready to go again. He rolled her over on her stomach. It had been a while, and the Demon wanted it. She should be pretty ready by now.

He raised her hips and entered her, reaching his fingers around to stroke her in the usual way. Gail had become used to this by now, and though it wasn't her favourite way, she didn't mind it so much any more. Every time they did it this way, it hurt a little less, and she'd even been able to enjoy it.

She was enjoying it now. "Harder," she urged, and the Demon smiled. She loved it as much as he did. He pushed himself into her, loving the feeling of being able to let go. He was being very rough now, and his hand clamped down on her hip. But she was encouraging him, lifting herself up to meet him. His fingers moved faster, and she cried out his name. She felt so good underneath him, and he wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't stop looking at her, and what he was doing to her. He groaned loudly, and then he swore. She was making him crazy again.

He collapsed on top of her, kissing and licking her ear. "That was so good," he breathed. Gail smiled. Yes, it was. A little painful, but she had encouraged it. Cas put his arms underneath her and he rose, lifting her with him, caressing her body. "So good," he repeated in her ear.

He withdrew from her and gently laid her down on her back. As he moved to lay down beside her, something caught his eye, and he looked down on the floor at the end of the bed. His pants were laying there, just at the edge of the Devil's Trap. In his haste to get them off, he had turned his pocket inside out and it was the razor blade that had caught his eye, glinting in the light of the lamp. He'd forgotten that was there.

He looked at Gail, then at the razor blade, then back at Gail. He had promised he wouldn't do that any more. But he really, really wanted to. He got off the bed and walked over to look at it. Did he dare?

"What are you doing, Cas?" she asked him curiously.

He frowned. What WAS he doing? Look how good she had been just now. What more did he want from her? Everything, that was all. He wanted all of her.

Cas bent down and picked up the razor blade, palming it carefully. Then he turned back to her. She was smiling at him. "Come back to bed," she said. Her Demon hadn't had enough yet.

Neither had his. He climbed back onto the bed and straddled her. "Do you love me?" he asked her.

"Of course I do," she answered him. She touched his face with both of her hands, trying to draw him closer, but he grabbed her hands with his free hand.

"How much?" he asked her softly.

How could she answer a question like that? "More than anything," Gail answered sincerely.

Cas opened his palm, showing her the razor blade. "I need it, Gail," he said, and now it was his turn to plead. "I'll be gentle. Please. It can be any way you want. I just need to make love to you. I just need to taste all of you. Please."

He steadied himself for the blow he was sure he was going to receive. And when she left the room, he wasn't going to be able to follow her. But he'd had to try.

She didn't hit him, or try to push him off of her. She was just looking at him. That encouraged him.

"Please, Gail," he begged. "The craving is so bad. I'm suffering. You don't want me to suffer, do you?" God, he was a loathsome individual now. But he was shaking with the need, and now that he might be so close to getting what he needed, Cas actually was suffering. If she left right now, he didn't know what he'd do. Of course, he was on top of her. She'd have to get past him first.

Gail was staring at the razor blade. At least it wasn't the Angel blade. It was small, and it probably wouldn't hurt as much. Was she seriously considering this now, after they'd fought about it so many times? Why? Because he'd said he was suffering? Or because the alcohol had lowered her inhibitions so much that she wanted to see him licking it off of her?

She looked into his eyes. "OK," she said hesitantly. "But if it hurts too much, you have to promise to stop."

"Anything you say," he replied eagerly. He couldn't believe she was finally agreeing to it. He was so excited.

He grabbed her and laid her down, looking at her body. Where should he do it? He'd better not take too long to decide. He couldn't let her change her mind now.

He looked at her warding tattoo. Maybe he'd start there. She'd withstood the pain of the needle stoically, for him. And now she was laying down willingly for him again.

"I love you so much," he said to her, and nicked her just below the tattoo. She hissed, and he put his hand on her stomach to try to calm her. The blood came immediately, and he bent his head, lapping it up slowly with his tongue.

Gail was looking down at him. Her feelings were mixed. She didn't enjoy the pain, but it had been minor and momentary, and she did love it when he licked her body. Cas smiled up at her. "Thank you," he said. He looked so happy, and his look was so loving.

He cut her a few more times, licking up the droplets, taking his time. The only thing he regretted was that he wouldn't be able to kiss her. She had made it clear she didn't like that, and now that he was getting his way, he didn't want to push it. But he had other ways of showing his appreciation.

Cas moved down her body and nicked her thigh several times, and he opened his mouth, sucking the blood that came out. She tasted so good. He moaned.

"That's enough, Cas, it's starting to hurt," she protested, and he stopped immediately. She'd been so good to him. He laid the razor blade on the bed and pulled her legs open, bringing his face between them. He needed to show her how thankful he was for her acquiesence. She reacted right away, making her little sounds. Interesting. She must have been enjoying what he'd been doing, even though she was reluctant to admit it. She'd already been ready for his tongue, and he was now enjoying the two tastes mixed together.

Gail knew that Cas had her blood all over his mouth and tongue now, but she was unable to worry about that at the moment. She would have to sneak out to the shower when they were done, and let him out to do the same. But he was making her so excited now. Was it possible that she had enjoyed watching him licking and tasting her blood? How sick was she, anyway?

Sick enough to grab his head and hold it, as his tongue was in just the right spot. She cried out loudly, and he grabbed her and brought her even closer to his mouth. After a moment, she let go of his head and stretched her arms out in supplication. She thought she was done, but he stayed there, loving her, and incredibly, the feeling started to come again. "Cas," she whimpered, and he smiled, speeding up his motion. She clearly loved everything he had done to her today, and now that she was allowing him to fully express himself, he could make her feel this happy all the time.

"Cas!" she yelled. She was writhing now, pushing herself towards him, and he had to hold her tightly to make sure he stayed where she wanted him to be. He was sure the extra bruises would be well worth it to her.

She was laughing now, because it was so good that she didn't have any words for it. Her eyes were dark, and so were her thoughts. She'd have to take the razor blade and hide it, not from Cas, but from Sam and Dean and Frank. If he could make her feel this amazing every time, what were a couple of little cuts, anyway, in the larger scheme of things? He had told her she could have it any way she wanted it.

"Come here," she said to him after, and when he did, she grabbed him and guided him inside her. He moaned. She felt like hot silk, and she wrapped her legs around him, urging him deeper. She brought his face to hers and gave him her tongue, and he smiled. Another taboo, out the window. He drove his tongue deep into her mouth just as he was driving himself deep into her. It didn't get any better than this. Now he had all of her, and she was giving it to him freely.

She was panting, making her little sounds, and he grabbed her roughly, pusking as hard as he could. He swore excitedly as she cried out, half in pleasure, half in pain. But the Demon didn't care. He was deep in his own pleasure now, and he crushed her to him as he shouted her name. Then he said it more quietly, and then he was still.

Dean had come into the kitchen to get beers for Sam, Frank and himself, and he caught the tail end of it. He heard Cas moan, and he rolled his eyes. What had been in that potion, anyway? Whatever it was, they should market it. As far as stamina and frequency, it put all the pills to shame. He heard Gail too, and he shook his head in amazement. It had been way too long since he'd made a woman sound like that, and as long as Gail wasn't being hurt, Dean guessed he had to hand it to Cas. Who would've thought that the holiest one of them all would have been then one who was producing those sounds? Then Dean shook his head violently, as if to clear the mental image his mind was forming of the two of them in there. He had seen them together many times by now, but he sure as hell didn't want to be picturing that every time he looked at them.

He had just turned back to go to the garage when he heard Gail yell, and he froze. That one hadn't sounded so good. Then he heard Cas yell, and the curse word he'd used definitely wouldn't have been Angel-approved. Dean had been reluctantly amused a moment ago, but now it didn't seem so funny.

Dean went out to the garage with the beers and laughed and joked with Frank and Sam as if nothing was bothering him. But he was uneasy. There was just something about what he'd heard that had really creeped him out. Gail had said that Cas wasn't hurting her any more, but that had sounded more like pain than fun to him. And they only had her word for it, didn't they?

"I'm gonna go see a man about a horse," Dean said casually to the other men, and he silently let himself into the bunker. Everything was quiet now. He moved stealthily down the hall and when he heard the bedroom door open, Dean ducked into the nearest room and poked his head around the corner to see what was going on.

It was Gail, of course. Unless she'd found something that would scratch the paint off the edge of the Devil's Trap, Cas wasn't going anywhere. They had made sure the weapons room was locked, just on general principles, and Dean himself had searched their room for anything sharp that could be used.

She was wearing the same clothes she'd been wearing when they had left her and Cas to their own devices, but she had another bundle of clothing in her arms. She must be headed for the shower. Nothing unusual about that. But then he looked closer at her. She was moving very slowly and grimacing, and he could see blood on her face, though it didn't look like she was bleeding there. Then he saw the bloody razor blade she was holding gingerly in her fingers.

Dean swore mentally, using the same word he'd heard Cas use a few minutes ago. The bastard had found a way. And Gail was not exactly running out of there screaming. He didn't like either of the conclusions his brain was now reaching: either Cas had held her down, or she had let him do it.

Dean felt like he was going to be sick. He and Sam hadn't told Frank about the vampire thing; why the hell would he need to know about that, on top of everything else? But, willingly or not, the Demon was being fed, and just what were he and Sam supposed to do about that?

Gail went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She put the razor blade on the side of the sink. She'd wash it after; she'd just wanted it out of her hand. And why? Because she'd been afraid she would cut herself with it. And if that wasn't just about the stupidest thing she had ever thought, she didn't know what was. Look what she had just let Cas do to her.

Speaking of which. She stripped off her clothes, wincing as she did so. Well, she'd told Frank that Demon sex wasn't gentle, and she hadn't been kidding. Now she was almost as bad as she'd been at Christmas, and she couldn't be mad at Cas because she had allowed it, then encouraged it, then wallowed in it. What was wrong with her? She should probably see a psychiatrist after all this was over. They could probably get a discount if they all went on the family plan, she thought wryly. Cas, Sam, Dean, Frank, Bobby...yeah, they should be able to get one hell of a deal. Maybe even bring Crowley, get him to open up about the hatred of his brother which had led to fratricide, and Rowena, and his abandonment issues. God, she was hilarious.

Just as Gail was looking down at herself, trying to assess the damage, Dean opened the bathroom door. They stared at each other for a moment. He was looking at her body, and when she turned around, his face went white. She hadn't bothered to have Cas heal her cuts, as she'd wanted to wash herself first. The bruises and welts, he couldn't do anything about anyway. And why the hell couldn't she ever seem to remember to lock a door when it really counted?

"Dean! Don't you ever knock?" she yelled, grabbing a towel and holding it in front of her. But, just like with Jody, the damage had already been done. He'd seen everything.

"That's it," Dean said, and he turned and stalked down the hall to their bedroom.

Crap! Gail grabbed her clothes and pulled them back on hastily, then she ran down the hall after him.

Dean flung the bedroom door open and looked at Cas. Cas had put his pants on and he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was actually sated for the moment, and had just been waiting for his turn to go into the bathroom and take a shower. Gail had been going to use the razor blade to scratch off the paint at the edge of the Devil's Trap to let him out, and she'd told him that she was going to hide it somwhere in the room. She wasn't going to tell Cas where. But she'd promised him that when the craving got to be too much for him, she would take it out for him. She didn't want this to become a regular part of their routine, and she wasn't encouraging it, she'd told him. But if it got really bad, she'd allow it. He had smiled, pulling her to him for a hug. She was being so understanding. He couldn't believe how much she loved him. The Demon was happy, too. He'd seen her in the throes of ecstasy. He had the feeling that would be occurring sooner, rather than later. If that was what she needed to tell herself, fine.

But Dean was here, and he rushed Cas now. He hauled Cas to his feet and punched him in the face, then grabbed Cas by the shoulders to steady him and did it again. Cas pushed Dean away but Dean came at him again, and he punched Cas once more. Cas was getting mad now. He'd known that one of them was going to do this soon, and he'd allowed a few shots to be delivered because deep down, he knew he really deserved it. But enough was enough, and he grabbed Dean by the shirt and pulled him close. "That's all you get," he said, looking Dean in the eye.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean yelled. He punched Cas again. "Let's go, then! You don't have a blade, and I'm not a woman!"

"Stop it!" Gail shouted, and she pulled at Dean's arm as hard as she could, trying to get him away from Cas. But Dean wouldn't budge, so she pushed herself in-between them.

"Get out of the way, Gail," Cas said in his quiet voice, but she was facing Dean.

"I won't," she said, and she flashed back to that night in Cas's jail cell, when she had stood in the way of Cas killing Jason. Granted, in retrospect, she probably should have stood aside and let him do it, but this was Dean, and she wasn't going to let anything happen to him. Unarmed or not, Dean had no idea what he was dealing with here.

"Leave the room, Gail," Dean said, tight-lipped. He was so mad he could hardly see straight. It was lucky he didn't have a weapon on him. He'd only told Cas he did earlier to serve as a deterrent. But he wasn't finished kicking ass yet.

"No, Dean," she said. "You need to leave the room."

He looked at her incredulously. "After what I just saw, you're still defending him? Maybe you deserve it, then. Maybe when you two go to Lucifer's cage, you should just move in. I bet you he's pretty rough, too."

Gail slapped him across the face, as hard as she could. How could he say such a horrible thing to her? But just look at her. Look at what she had just let Cas do to her. Dean wasn't really wrong, was he?

Cas was livid. He was going to kill Dean for what he'd just said to Gail. All she was doing was letting Cas love her the way he needed to now. None of this was her fault.

"Apologize to her, or I will kill you," Cas said in the quietest voice they had ever heard him use.

Dean looked at Gail. Her eyes were filled with tears now. Poor Dean, Gail thought. He was only doing this because he cared about her.

Dean gave her a half-smile. "Well, I think you just socked the wrong guy in the face, but I will apologize. You didn't deserve that. So, I'm sorry." He glared at Cas. "But I apologized for Gail's sake, not for yours. I want her to come back from Hell, but you can stay there, for all I care. We're done."

Then he stalked out of the bedroom, moving to the room where he kept the bar Cas had supplied them with. Mindful of the irony, Dean grabbed a bottle and screwed it open, letting the cap fall carelessly to the floor. He chugged straight from the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His hand hurt from punching Cas, and his heart heart from what he'd just said to the both of them.

"Didn't anybody ever teach you any manners?" Gail teased from behind him. He turned around to face her. She walked up to him and touched his face, where she'd slapped him. "I believe that's two you owe me now," she quipped, remembering when she'd slapped him way back when he'd been considering trading himself to Crowley for Frank. That felt like about a thousand years ago now.

But he didn't smile. "I deserved that, Gail. I can't believe I said that to you. I didn't mean it, really I didn't."

He looked so agonized that she believed him. "I know, Dean. Look at me with Frank. That's the way brothers and sisters are sometimes," she said softly.

He pulled her in for a hug, but she hissed in pain, so he let go immediately, putting both of his hands on her face gently, as she'd done with him. "This has to end, Gail," he said to her, "or somebody's gonna end up killing somebody. You know that, right?"

She sighed. Yes, she knew that. "I'll call Crowley now," she told him. "We have to get him to take us down there. And I hate to tell you this," she continued with a small smile, "but we're both coming back. I haven't gone through all this for nothing."

Dean looked at her evenly. "Is it even worth it any more, Gail?"

She panicked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, is it even worth it? How are we going to even be able to be in the same room with each other once it's done? If it can even be done," Dean said.

"Don't give up on him, Dean," Gail said, grabbing his arm. "Please. He needs you guys. I need you guys."

Dean took another swig from the bottle, still looking at her. He and Crowley had never talked about those doe eyes, but Dean would definitely have been able to relate if they had. Damn it.

"You and Cas are gonna owe us big after all this is over," he said to her. "I think a miracle a day ought to do it."

She broke into a smile and threw her arms around his neck, kissing the red mark on his cheek where she'd slapped him. He put the hand not holding the bottle around her waist to hug her, but he did it gently.

Gail broke the embrace. She pointed to the bottle. "Now give me a hit off that. I'll need a shot of courage if I'm going to the crossroads alone."

So, as Dean rejoined Sam and Frank in the garage with fresh beers and skinned knuckles that he did his best to hide from Frank, and as Cas sat alone with his bruised and battered face in his hands, Gail appeared at the crossroads and summoned the King of Hell.

She'd just thought his name, as Crowley advised she could do now, and he appeared immediately.

Crowley looked at her, and then he looked around. "Where's your Master? Parking the car?" he asked, smirking.

"Oh, har har. You're so funny," Gail said sarcastically. Then she sighed. She supposed she was going to have to take that, and a lot worse, when they got to Lucifer's cage. She remembered Lucifer taking on Cas's appearance and saying those things to her, and she was sure that he hadn't even gotten warmed up yet. Crowley may be the King of Hell, but Lucifer was a whole other level of evil, and she'd better be ready.

"He's not here. It's just me," she told him.

Interesting, Crowley thought. "So you've finally come to your senses, then?" he asked her.

She made a face. "No. He's back at the bunker." She didn't elaborate. Cas and Crowley had had their problems, but Cas was right about one thing: not everything was Crowley's business.

"I came here to talk to you about the seance," Gail told him.

Crowley smirked again. "How is my dear mother?" he asked.

"Pretty much the same," Gail said, rolling her eyes.

"And did she help you?" Crowley asked casually. But he did really want to know.

"Actually, she did," Gail replied. She went on to tell him what Rowena had said about the ingredients for the cure.

Crowley let out a low whistle. His mother didn't screw around, did she? Like Cas and Gail, though, he wondered how the hell they were supposed to get the breaths of essence from Metatron and Lucifer. He shook his head in disbelief.

"I'll take you, but you'll have to figure out how to accomplish that," Crowley told her. "I may be the King, but I have no hold over either of them, and I can't compel them to do anything."

Gail sighed again. Of course. "I guess we'll just have to figure it out when we get there," she said.

"Are you sure it's even worth it, Gail?" he asked her. His voice was serious now. Crowley had been looking at her closely as they spoke, and as she'd been pacing nervously, he'd seen that she was moving gingerly. His Brother had been at her again, he was sure of it. Which was a little surprising, considering that the last time Crowley had seen Castiel, Cas had been so contrite about killing Gail's brother that he had actually gotten down on his knees and begged Crowley to revive Frank. His Brother really did enjoy pushing his luck, didn't he? But Gail was here without him; that had to be significant.

"How is Frank, anyway?" Crowley blurted out.

Gail looked at him sharply. Why was he suddenly asking about her brother now? A moment ago, he'd been sounding like Dean, asking if the cure was worth pursuing, and she'd decided to ignore the question. If one more person asked her that today, they were going to get punched in the face. Was she the only one who remembered how good Castiel was, and how much good he had done for everyone? Now he needed them, and all they could seem to do was ask if he was even worth their help. Was it any wonder that she stuck up for Cas so fiercely? If she didn't, who would?

But now Crowley was asking about Frank, out of the blue. And how did he even know Frank was around? Crowley couldn't see into the bunker.

"Why do you ask?" Gail asked him suspiciously. "And, what do you care?"

Crowley had been just about to tell her what had happened earlier, maybe just for spite, or maybe because he didn't like the way she was moving again, like every motion she made was causing her pain. But he held himself back. If they all had to go to Lucifer's cage together, it wouldn't do to have the two of them fighting. They would be up against it as it was, without Cas and Gail going at it. There would be plenty of hate to go around.

So he merely said, "I don't know. We were talking about my family, so I thought I'd ask you about yours."

Gail continued to look at him. That had been pretty lame, she thought. She didn't believe that for a moment. But she wanted to stay on point. They needed to get this going.

"Will you take us tonight?" she asked Crowley.

He shrugged. He didn't see why not. It was late now, but none of them slept, anyway. Soonest begun, soonest done.

"I'll wait here while you fetch Castiel," he said agreeably.

She nodded, but remained standing there for a moment. She wanted to say something to him first. "I wanted to thank you for all your help," Gail told him. She figured she'd better do it now. Cas didn't like it when she was nice to Crowley. And she really did appreciate his assistance. Crowley really didn't have to do any of this for them.

Crowley smiled. That, right there, was why he had been motivated to help her so much. She was the only one out of any of them that he could recall ever expressing gratitude to him. Which now motivated him to offer to help her again.

"Would you like me to heal you?" he said suddenly.

She looked at him sharply again. Were they sure he couldn't see into the bunker?

"I can tell," he said softly.

Gail sighed. She supposed it was pretty obvious. She was hurting all over. Since Cas wasn't here, she touched Crowley's arm briefly. "Thanks for the offer, but I'd better decline," she said, giving him a tight smile.

Crowley frowned, but he supposed he could understand. How could she explain that to his Brother when she went back to get him? If Castiel knew that the two of them had been here alone and that Crowley's hands had been all over Gail's body, he would go ballistic. Too bad. He'd really wanted to do it, too, and for a couple of reasons.

He nodded, but reached out and grabbed Gail's hand, purely on impulse. She looked at him, but she didn't take her hand away.

"It's a standing offer, sweetheart," Crowley told her, and there wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice when he used the term this time.

Gail smiled. She gave his hand a brief squeeze, then she took her hand away. You knew things had hit rock bottom when the King of Hell was holding your hand more tenderly than your own boyfriend did. And of course, now that she had hit rock bottom, she was going to bring out the shovel and dig the hole deeper. It was time to go to Lucifer's cage.

She appeared back in the bunker. Sam, Dean and Frank were sitting around the library room table, a growing number of empty beer bottles in front of them.

"Hi, guys," she said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Frank and Dean looked at her with compassion, but Sam fixed her with a baleful glare. Great. She supposed Dean had had to tell Sam about what had happened with Cas, but she really didn't need Sam looking at her that way right now. Not considering where she was about to go.

"Sam, would you come into the kitchen with me for a minute?" Gail said to him. He frowned, but rose, holding his beer bottle. Then he put it down on the table.

"Might as well bring it," Gail sighed. After a moment's consideration, she grabbed the whiskey bottle from the table and started down the hall to the kitchen with Sam following.

When they got there, Gail opened one of the cabinet doors and took two glasses out, bringing them over to the table with the whiskey bottle she was still holding. She poured some in each glass and gestured to Sam to sit down. He sat, but in the seat beside her instead of across the table from her. Terrific. Now she'd get to see his look of disgust up close.

"So, what's new?" she asked him, pushing one of the glasses of whiskey in front of him.

Sam's lips twitched, but he didn't smile. He wanted to stay mad at her. "Why are you feeding him, Gail?" he asked her quietly.

"Wow. Straight to the bonus round," she quipped nervously. She grabbed her glass and threw back the shot. What the hell; drinking seemed to be the order of the day, and Sam was unnerving her. "I don't know, Sam," she said uncomfortably. And that was the hell of it; she really didn't know. She raised her eyes to look at him.

"There's something wrong with me, Sam," she said miserably. "And I'm not just talking about this Demon stuff. I wish I could just blame it on that. And I can't even talk to you about it, because of the way you feel." About me, she'd been about to add, but there was really no need. They both knew what she was talking about.

"Try me," he said. "I always want you to be able to talk to me, Gail." He grabbed his glass and downed the shot. If she was really going to talk to him, he needed the fortification.

"Okay, I will, then," Gail replied. She took a deep breath. "He said he was suffering, Sam. He said he needed it, and he was suffering."

Sam snorted. "Demons lie, Gail. And even if he was suffering, so what? Let him suffer. He's sure made you suffer enough."

Gail sighed again. "I knew you would say that. I understand where you're coming from, Sam, I really do. But what I'm trying not to say to you, and maybe it's what you should hear, is that I fed him because a part of me enjoyed being the meal. So you can keep looking at me that way, because I guess that does make me truly disgusting."

But now Sam was looking at her with compassion, and that was somehow harder for her to take. "Don't do that to me, Sam," Gail said, grimacing. "I have to go to Lucifer's cage tonight, and I don't want to go in there crying. I'm sure I'll be crying plenty when we come out," she tried to quip.

Sam stood, and he took her hands, bringing her to stand with him. He put his arms around her, but he did so gently. Dean had told him and Frank what he'd seen. It was a testament to the mens' love for Gail that Cas was still sitting in the bedroom untouched, and that he was still alive.

"OK, Gail," Sam said softly. "OK." He comforted her for a minute, then he pulled out of the embrace and looked down at her face. "Give Lucifer a kick in the ass for me, and give him one for Bobby, too. And remember, anything he shows you or says to you is a lie. Tell Cas that, too." Sam was the angriest at Cas he'd ever been right now, but he didn't want either of them coming back in the same condition as he himself or Bobby had been in when they'd gotten back. That would be all they'd need.

"Come with me back to the library," Gail said to Sam, grabbing his hand. "I need you and Dean to do something for me."

She left Sam in the library area while she went to get Cas. Before they'd left the kitchen, Gail had liberated a butter knife from the drawer to use to scratch the paint off the edge of the Devil's Trap so he would be able to get free. It would be slow going, but she'd seen Sam watching her and she knew that was the sharpest thing she'd be allowed to have.

Gail had told the men she was going to free Cas, and she had warned them not to go on the attack. "I'll be telling him the same thing," she told them. "And if any of you tries anything, we'll just leave and not come back," she'd concluded sternly.

"What if HE does?" Frank said angrily.

"Then I'll - " Gail stopped. What WOULD she do? She sighed. "Let's just worry about that if we have to."

The men frowned, but they nodded their heads. OK. Just because they were promising not to initiate the attack didn't mean that they couldn't provide the appropriate response if Cas did.

So Gail entered the bedroom, and Cas looked up at her. He'd been sitting with his head in his hands the entire time she'd been gone, and he was surprised to see her now.

"I thought you'd left," he said quietly.

"Well, I did, but now I'm back," she said lightly. She didn't understand.

"No. I thought you'd left ME," Cas said sadly. He stood and walked to the very edge of the Devil's Trap, looking at her. "I've been sitting here wondering what I could possibly ever do to convince you to stay."

"I haven't left you, Cas," she told him, walking up to him and taking his hand. "I just went to see Crowley. We're going to Lucifer's cage." Now he understood why she was holding the butter knife in her other hand. That was probably the sharpest thing they would let her have. "Now?" he said, startled.

"No time like the present," she replied. Then she frowned. "The longer we wait, the worse it's going to get, Cas. And isn't it already bad enough?"

Yes, it was. His face hurt from the beating that Dean had administered, but Cas couldn't blame him, not one bit. He had been fighting with himself the entire time she had been gone, and he had given himself a stern lecture. Just because she loved him enough to let him do those things to her didn't mean that he should be doing them. He'd hurt her badly once again, and he had coerced her into letting him feed on her. Castiel should be the stronger one in the relationship, and in his own body. She'd been strong enough for the both of them for so long now, but he couldn't allow her to keep sacrificing herself like that. Soon she would shatter into a million pieces, and he'd be the one who had been holding the hammer. If they came back from Lucifer's cage intact, and if they actually achieved the miracle they were seeking, he would have to sit down with her and have a talk. Maybe she needed to take a separate room until this was all over. It would just about kill him, but it was for her own good. Once he got her in that bed, he would never stop. He was incapable of stopping himself, it seemed.

Gail knelt down on the floor and started to scrape away the paint at the edge of the Devil's Trap with the butter knife. It took a while, but eventually, she broke the shield and he was able to step out. He took her in his arms, but gently, and he kissed her tenderly on the lips. "I love you, Gail. No matter what happens, and no matter what anyone says or does. Even me." He smiled sadly.

"I know that, Cas," Gail said, touching his face. He put his hand over hers and held it there. It was sweet of her to give him this comfort now, when she must be so nervous herself.

And Gail was extremely nervous. She was about to gather together the biggest collection of evil in this world or any other, and unfortunately, she could include Cas in that number now, too. And she couldn't forget herself, either. Look at what she had enjoyed earlier in this room.

"Ready?" Cas said, taking her hand.

"No," she deadpanned, and they shared a smile, but it was a sad one. They'd said the same thing before they'd gone into the hearing room at the tribunal, and look how that had turned out.

"We need to see the guys before we leave," Gail said to him.

Cas frowned. "Why?" He had been hoping not to have to face them so soon, and especially not right before he had to deal with Lucifer.

"There's just something that I feel like we need to do," Gail said vaguely.

Cas's lips twitched. "You must still be more Angel than you think you are. You're certainly speaking like one."

Gail smiled, but her mind was distracted. She didn't know why she wanted to do this, she just did. She'd had intuitions for most of her life, and she'd been having this one since she'd gone to see Crowley. Gail had learned to go with them by now, but this one was really mystifying to her. How could what she was thinking of possibly do them any good where they were going? But the feeling was so strong that she just couldn't ignore it.

She led Cas by the hand to the library area. "Time to cash in that favour," Gail said. "Sam, Dean, cam you come with us to the weapons room?"

They smirked. Yeah, right.

"I'm not kidding, you guys. I need you to look through them for me. I'm looking for one in particular, and I'm hoping you can identify the right one for me."

Dean sighed. "OK. But he stays outside," he said, jerking his head at Cas.

Gail shook her head. "No. He has to come in, too. He's the only one who can read the language on them. Although I suspect you could give it a good go," she said, looking at Sam with a little smile.

Sam smiled back at her, then shrugged. What the hell. Cas looked pretty tame right now, but he was welcome to try something if he wanted. Sam would be totally OK with that.

"You want to come, Frank?" Dean asked Gail's brother. But then Dean saw the murderous look on Frank's face as he was staring at Cas, and he stammered, "Yeah. Maybe not." Frank and Cas and all those weapons in the same room? They'd have to lay in some cleaning supplies first, for all the blood there would be when those two were done.

Frank's jaw was clenched, and Gail could see the tendons standing out on his neck. It was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to kill Cas with his bare hands. Who needed a weapon, when you had this much rage?

Gail ran over and put her hands on Frank's shoulders, kissing him on the forehead. "I'll be back soon, and we can talk some more in the morning," she said to him. "It's late, and you guys should get some rest. I don't know how long we'll be. We'll pop back in after."

Frank was frowning, but despite everything, he knew she must be terrified about where she was going now. He grabbed her hand and held onto it for a moment. "You take care in there," he said to her. "Come back safe." That was all he could say. His throat was closing up now.

"Will do," she said lightly. She brought his hand up and kissed it, then she hurried back across the room to the others. "Let's go," she said.

They were sifting through the weapons now, looking for Angel blades. At least, Sam and Dean and Gail were. Cas was standing well back from them, and Dean was watching him out of the corner of his eye to make sure he stayed right where he was.

As soon as they'd entered the room and Cas had taken a few steps in, Dean had put his hand on Cas's chest. "That's as far as you go," Dean said to him, and Cas had stopped. He guessed he could understand that, from Dean's point of view.

"What are you looking for, Gail?" Sam asked her curiously.

"I'm looking for a different one, one that wasn't here before," Gail replied. She picked up two blades and put them aside. "Those are mine and Cas's."

"This is the one I got from Crowley in Las Vegas," Sam said, picking up another and showing it to them.

"Not that one," Gail said, so he handed it to her and she put it aside with the others.

"And here's the one you gave me when Jason was trying to take you guys to Heaven," Dean said, showing it to her.

Gail shook her head. That wasn't it, either. Although it was a little interesting how Sam and Dean were able to identify them so easily. She asked the brothers about that now. A while back, they told her, they'd noticed that each blade had slightly different markings on their hilts, and if they were examined for a moment, you could spot the differences.

Gail was impressed, and a little surprised that it had been Dean who had noticed this first, and that he had started to analyze it. She should probably give him more credit, sometimes. When he wasn't being such a smartass, he was actually quite smart. If his life had gone a different way, Gail could envision him having been an entrepreneur, owning a successful company. She wondered what he would look like wearing glasses and greying at the temples. Where had that come from, now?

She put her hand on Dean's arm. "Way to go, Mister Smart Guy," she said to him. He looked at her suspiciously, searching for any trace of sarcasm. "I'm serious, Dean. It turns out you were right. The markings are all different, and they're all significant. I wish I had the time to explain and to show you, but we've gotta go. Maybe another time. I can show you this, and you can show me how to fix a carburetor, or something." They smiled at each other.

Cas started to do the slow burn. Now she was going to blab everything Crowley had taught them about the blades to Dean and Sam. Although it hadn't been nearly enough. That was his fault; he'd allowed himself to get sidetracked. He still didn't know what his blade said about his Original powers for the most part, and they were largely in the dark about Gail's, as well. Every time Cas tried to read the language for an extended period of time, it gave him a headache. It had been much easier just to let Crowley tell them what the markings said. Unless he was lying, of course. But Castiel had no reason to doubt his Brother's veracity at this point. Everything he'd told them so far was accurate, and he was willingly taking them to see Metatron and Lucifer. The part of himself Cas was trying to fight didn't want the cure, but Castiel did, and the sooner they started, the better. If Gail could only stand him a little bit longer, he would gladly drink the cure, and then try to spend the rest of their days making it up to her, any way he could.

But the other part of him wasn't enjoying the sight of her hand on Dean's arm and the fact that they were smiling at each other now. And how had Dean known about the marks on her, anyway? the voice whispered. When exactly would he have seen her body? Cas had spent all this time worrying about Sam; maybe he had been worrying about the wrong Winchester. Dean had been the one to accompany Gail to Lucifer's cage, and Dean had been the one to punch Cas out earlier, when he had somehow found out about Cas hurting her during their last session. Could it be Dean who had feelings for Gail? And did Gail have feelings for Dean?

"You're wasting time," Cas snapped, taking a step forward.

Dean snatched a Demon knife off the table and looked at it casually. "Do you hear something, Sammy?" he asked sardonically.

"Nope," Sam replied, also picking up a Demon knife.

Cas stopped walking, but he said, "We need to go. Crowley won't wait forever."

Gail nodded. "He's right about that," said Gail. "Keep looking."

Sam held up another Angel blade he'd found. "Here's another one." He peered at the hilt. "I don't recognize it. There are a lot of markings on it, though. More than on the other ones."

He handed it to Dean, who looked at it. "Hey, I think I know where this one came from. I think it's the one Jody picked up from the cabin floor."

Gail's heart stopped. That was what she'd been looking for. Could it be Metatron's blade?

"Can I see that for a second?" she said to Dean. He handed it to her.

Gail examined it. There WERE a lot of markings on it, just like there were on hers, Cas's, and Crowley's. And the last place they remembered seeing Metatron's blade was in the cabin, when Cas had disarmed Jason, who'd had it at the time.

She turned around and walked towards Cas, holding the blade. Sam and Dean rushed to her side. "Relax, guys," she said, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm just going to show it to him. I want him to read the markings. We need to be sure."

Gail handed the blade to Cas as Sam and Dean gripped their weapons tighter, but he merely turned it over in his hands, reading the symbols. He nodded. "It's Metatron's," he confirmed. He looked at Gail. "But why do you want it?"

"I just had a feeling that we might need it, for some reason," Gail replied.

He continued to look at her, then he shrugged. Cas knew she had these feelings from time to time, and she'd turned out to be right on many occasions. They might as well bring it, if she thought it was so important. It was only an Angel blade, anyway; it's not as if it could harm anyone that would be there. Not even Gail, any more. If she was able to get into the wing of Hell that held Lucifer's cage, she was no Angel. He stashed it in his jacket.

They came out of the weapons room, and Gail hugged both Sam and Dean. "Thanks, guys," she said to them. "I think we'll just leave now. We've lingered long enough."

The Winchesters wished her luck, then they stared at Cas, but said nothing. He hadn't expected any different. He guessed that by wishing her luck they were wishing him luck too, by extension. He understood why they didn't want to speak to him right now, but the Demon was pushing back, telling him the brothers wanted him out of the picture because each wanted Gail for himself. He pictured Sam kissing Gail with his tongue and her giving hers to Sam as he slipped his hands under her top and caressed her bare skin. He pictured Dean's head between Gail's legs, using his tongue to make her cry out his name, not Cas's. His hands curled into fists, and he took a deep breath, trying to erase those pictures from his mind. It was him she loved, not Sam, not Dean. Look what she was doing for him right now. He'd better get a grip and get those images out of his head before they saw Lucifer, or Lucifer would eat Cas for breakfast.

Gail came back and took his hand, and then they were at the crossroads.

"It's about time," Crowley said, irritated. He'd been about to give up on them, thinking that Castiel had chickened out. He knew that Castiel and Lucifer had never met, and his Brother was looking positively green right now.

"Let's go, then," Gail said. She grabbed Crowley's hand, and the three of them went to Hell.

"What do you say, Frank? Want to pack it in?" Dean said to Gail's brother. The three men had been sitting there and talking since before Cas and Gail had left, and they had stayed there afterwards, drinking and thinking about the two of them with Crowley, visiting Metatron and Lucifer. Were they on a fool's errand? Even if by some miracle they were able to obtain what they had gone there for, Rowena had said that there were seven more ingredients to get. Gail was rolling a boulder uphill, and if she lost her grip for even one minute, it was going to roll back down and crush her. The men had vowed to themselves and to each other that they would help her any way they could, but they couldn't help her now.

Frank didn't know how he was ever going to be able to look Cas in the face again without wanting to kill him, even if they got the cure, and it worked. So much had happened between the two of them that was negative. He tried to concentrate on the day Cas had brought him out of the depths of Hell, and how good and decent he had seemed then. Frank had seen how good he was to Gail then, too, and how loving. These guys and Bobby had all told him that Cas would sooner die than see Gail hurt, much less ever do anything to hurt her himself. But Cas was still alive, and Dean had told them about the condition of Gail's body. Yes, Cas was a Demon right now, but that could only excuse so much. And Frank was going to have to sort out his feelings about his own sister, too. He'd seen and heard a lot of things about her and from her since he'd come back that had sickened him, and Frank had had to come to the hard realization that he couldn't blame everything on Cas. They were going to have a lot of talking to do after all this was over. Frank refused to entertain the idea that the cure couldn't be achieved. Sam and Dean had been trying to prepare him for that possibility, but Frank was in denial about that. Gail had to be cured. She just had to be. Cas, he didn't particularly care about any more, but Frank didn't intend to lose his sister again. If she could be saved, he would make sure he would take care of her. And if Cas was too far gone to be saved, or if she finally decided she'd taken enough from him, maybe Frank could gently steer her in Sam's direction. Frank had spent enough time with Sam now to know that he was a really good guy, and Gail's brother now knew that Sam had more than just brotherly feelings for Gail. If she needed to have a relationship with a guy, Frank would much rather see her with Sam.

But first, there was this, and Frank figured he'd better get some rest so he could be there for Gail when she needed him. He said goodnight to the Winchesters and moved down the hall to the spare bedroom where he'd tossed his bag when he'd arrived. Frank laid down on the bed, not even bothering to undress. It had been a long day, and he thought he'd just rest his eyes for a few minutes. He really wanted to see Gail when she got back. But of course, he fell asleep almost immediately. His sleep was uneasy though, and he had nightmares about Cas coming at him with a blade. A blade that Gail had handed to him.

Sam and Dean sat up for a while afterwards, but they were starting to flag, too. It had been a long, stress-filled day, and each man was burdened by guilt over not having stepped in sooner. Unlike Frank, they'd both been around at Christmastime, and they had tried to deal with things the best they could. But they had failed spectactularly. But, had they really tried hard enough? They should have just ignored Bobby and kidnapped Gail anyway. She was here now, but things were so far gone they didn't even know what to do about her any more. They were a little more pessimistic about the cure than Frank was, because they had been at the seance, and they knew Rowena. Though Frank had been in Crowley's service when Rowena was alive, he hadn't gotten to know her that well, though he hadn't liked her too much. She had never messed with him as she had messed with Gail and the brothers though, and Sam and Dean weren't altogether sure she wasn't messing with them now. Maybe she was sending Gail on a wild-goose chase for her own amusement. But even if she was sincerely helping Gail for some unknown reason, if the other seven ingredients were going to be as stupidly hard as this one was to get, they had their doubts. But they would stick by Gail as long as they could. Both Gail and Frank were family now, and you didn't give up on your family. And the same went for Cas. Though they hated what he had become now, he was family too, and they were determined to save him, if he could be saved. They just hoped it wasn't already too late.

Crowley led Castiel and Gail to the metal security door that led to the wing where Lucifer's cage was located.

The former Angels were holding hands, as they usually did, and their eyes were wide with apprehension. Cas's hand was gripping Gail's so tightly it was almost painful, but she didn't mind because she was holding his hand just as tight. Gail had the dubious advantage of having been here before, and she was not looking forward to returning. Castiel's fear was the fear of the unknown. Having been around since Creation, as the other male Originals had been, Castiel was afraid of the legend and the mystique attached to Lucifer's name. Even humans knew who he was; he was the Devil himself, the worst evil there was or ever would be. Even God Himself, their Father, could not destroy Lucifer, and He had ended up locking his recalcitrant Son in that cage because He hadn't known what else to do with him. Much as Bobby had decided to do with Metatron. And just how on earth were they supposed to get the two most evil Angels in Heaven's storied history to do them a favour?

That wasn't Crowley's problem. He had agreed to do this, not for their sake, but for his own. He had grown tired of this whole situation, and he wanted things back to the status quo, but it was not his job to persuade anyone of anything. And, quite frankly, he had no idea himself how the deed could be accomplished. Gail's doe eyes hadn't worked on Metatron the last time she was here, and Lucifer had had his way, toying with her until Crowley had stepped in. But now she was throwing Castiel into the mix out of necessity, and Crowley had no idea how that was going to go. Probably not well. His Brother had never played well with others as an Angel, and he had become just about unbearable as a Demon.

Crowley sighed inwardly as he approached the door. He was feeling a little like a long-suffering parent bringing together four problem children for the world's most dysfunctional play date. He could almost hear his mother laughing all the way from the Netherworld. At least he was thankful that, as the mother of the King of Hell, she had apparently been accorded VIP status by Death; otherwise, she would have been his burden to bear for eternity. He'd felt like sending Death a Thank You card for that particular decision. Or maybe a basket of muffins.

The door swung open, and Crowley led the way. Castiel began to follow, still holding Gail's hand, but then something strange happened. As he passed through the door, Cas felt a tug on his hand, and suddenly, Gail's hand was gone. He looked back, startled, and saw her standing on the other side of the doorway.

She was looking at him, open-mouthed, and Cas misinterpreted her look, thinking that fear had stopped her.

"Wait," he said to Crowley. Crowley turned back around, annoyed. What were they playing at?

But Gail wasn't playing, and she wasn't paralyzed with fear, as Cas had thought. She'd stopped because she'd been unable to proceed.

"I can't," she said to them.

Cas and Crowley came back to where she stood, and Cas took her hand. "I know, I'm nervous, too," he told her, but she was shaking her head.

"No, I mean, I can't get through," she told him. "Watch." She tried to walk through the doorway, pushing herself forward, but it was as if an invisible pair of hands was shoving her backward. "See?" she said, looking at both men.

Crowley and Castiel exchanged glances. Cas was irritated. She'd been here before, hadn't she? So what the hell was wrong now? He'd been apprehensive as it was, and this unexpected delay wasn't helping. "What did you do?" he asked Crowley angrily.

Crowley glared at his Brother. Really? "What do you mean, what did I do? Nothing! She was able to enter last time. She and Dean slid through, just like butter."

Cas frowned. He didn't want to be reminded that Gail had come here with Dean. But if she'd been able to get in when she was with Dean, why couldn't she get in with him?

But Cas wasn't the problem. It was Gail. Crowley peered at her more closely. He'd just had an idea.

"Have you suffered any loss of blood recently?" he asked her.

Gail's eyes darted to Cas, then she looked back at Crowley. "Why do you ask?" she asked evasively.

Now Crowley thought he was starting to get it. He looked at Cas. "What do you know about this?" he asked his Brother.

"What makes you think I know anything about it?" Cas said angrily. Guilt has very quick ears to an accusation, and he was avoiding Crowley's eyes.

Crowley rolled his eyes. These two would have been the death of him, if he hadn't already been dead for centuries. "My office. Now," he said to them. He pulled the metal door shut, then turned his back on the couple and started to walk down the corridor. They had little choice but to follow.

Once in Crowley's office, the three of them looked at each other. "Sit down," he told Cas and Gail, gesturing to the couch. They sat, and he moved to the bar, grabbing the crystal decanter of brandy and three glasses. He brought them to the table, pouring a glass for each of them and pushing two of the glasses towards the couple. Then he took the other one for himself and sat in the armchair across from them.

"Have a drink," he said casually. He swirled the liquid around in his glass for a moment, regarding it, then took a sip.

Castiel frowned. He didn't want a drink, he wanted to get this over with. What did Crowley know? What was going on?

Crowley smiled at the look on his Brother's face. "Have a drink, Castiel. You'll need it."

"Spit it out, Crowley," Cas growled. "What do you know?"

"What do I know?" Crowley echoed, his smile broadening. "It seems you've managed to do to yourself what you've been doing practically non-stop to your little girlfriend here."

Cas's blood was boiling. "Just say what you have to say," he said quietly.

Crowley took another sip, then he put the glass down.

"Fine," he said, "I will. Your draining of Gail's blood, however amorously intended, has served to lessen the Demon essence in her. As it stands now, she cannot enter."

Gail's heart sank. No. It wasn't possible. "But it wasn't even that much," she said aloud. Crowley's eyes shifted to her, and she was momentarily embarrassed. But then she remembered who he was. He'd likely heard worse. Hell, he'd probably done worse.

Crowley's eyes twinkled. Too bad Castiel was so uncontrollable; he could really use two Originals who were so depraved on his side. "Apparently, it was enough, sweetheart," he told her. He took the empty vial out of his pocket and put it on the table next to his glass. "Well, it appears we won't be needing this any more."

Cas was agitated. "She can stay here, then. We'll get her to breathe into that, then you and I can go and get the others." He still had no idea how the hell they were going to do it, but they were here now, and he was determined that they should proceed.

But Gail was shaking her head. "That won't work," she said.

Cas looked at her. "Why not?" he said, raising his voice.

"Don't shout at me," she shot back. "This is as much your fault as it is mine. You and your stupid craving! Why don't you just drink booze, like normal people?" She grabbed her glass and downed the shot, feeling the alcohol burn her throat. This was beyond frustrating. They were screwed. Cas wasn't getting it.

Crowley was smirking now. She truly was a woman after his own heart.

But Cas was angry, stung by Gail's rebuke. "Why won't it work?" he said, choosing to focus on what she'd said, rather than the way she had said it.

"Because, Rowena said all five of us have to be standing together, and that I had to be the one doing the collecting!" Gail shouted. "How the hell are we going to do that now?"

Cas was stunned. Gail had actually told him that; he had just forgotten it in his anxiousness to get this over with. Well, Crowley was right. He and his urges had truly screwed them. He moved to take Gail's hand, intending to apologize, but she jerked her hand away.

"I can't believe it," she said bitterly. "I can't believe I did all that for nothing." And what was she going to do now? There was nothing she could do, was there? Nothing but move them out of the bunker and back to the house. Live out the rest of their Demon existence. Let Cas have his way with her until the day that the pain overtook the pleasure, and then maybe, a murder-suicide pact. Then, come back down here and drink with Crowley for eternity. If he was magnanimous enough not to have her tortured, that was.

Crowley sat back in his chair, finishing his drink. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asked her. "Is the bloom starting to come off the rose a bit? Well, you can't have the roses without the thorns, can you?" She glared at him, but said nothing. He admired her restraint. So much so that he decided to let her off the hook.

"It just so happens there is a way," he said to her. She would have already thought of it if she wasn't so distressed. Or maybe she had, but was no longer willing to make the sacrifice.

Gail was staring at him intently. Crowley smiled, and it began to dawn on her. No. Not again.

"One more," he said evenly. "One more, and you're good to go."

Cas was looking at the both of them looking at each other, and suddenly, he realized what Crowley was getting at. His anger had clouded his thought process.

"No," he said slowly. "No. You can't, Gail. I won't let you."

Gail scoffed. "You won't let me. Oh, that's good. You put these marks all over me, you cut me and drink my blood, and you won't let me. Who do you think I've been doing all this for, anyway? And it's already too late! I'm sitting in Hell, aren't I? Even if I'm not Demon enough to go in there, I'm Demon enough to be sitting here! What exactly are you trying to save me FROM? That ship sailed when you put that first needle in me, so that makes you the Captain of our Titanic, doesn't it?"

She had hurt him, and hurt him badly. Everything she was saying was true. He had condemned her for eternity because of his own insecurities. He'd demanded that she prove her love to him, when really, she had been doing that all along.

But then Gail reached out and took both of his hands in hers. "I'm sorry, Cas."

He felt sick. "Why are you apologizing to me?" he asked her quietly.

She thought about that for a minute. Why WAS she? Because he looked so sad? "Because I let you do it," she answered honestly. "I should have been stronger than that. That's on me, as our friend Dean would say. And he is our friend, regardless of what he did to your face."

This made Crowley smile. So that was what had happened. He hadn't asked, but he'd figured it had been something like that. Good for you, Squirrel, he thought.

But Cas was not smiling. Gail was touching his face now, but he reached up and gently took her hand away. "Don't do that, please," he told her. "I don't deserve it."

Crowley couldn't argue with him there. These two were both making him sick. They'd better hurry, before he changed his mind.

"Well, Gail?" Crowley said briskly. "What'll it be?"

She sighed, then she rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "Might as well."

Cas was frowning. Her point about it being too late for salvation was well taken, but he still didn't have to like it. And now she would have an additional blood bond with Crowley. He'd have demanded it be his blood if she hadn't pointedly reminded him that he was the one who had ruined her in the first place. And his wasn't merely Demon blood; it was much worse. Did he want her to be as bad as he was now? No, he couldn't stand that, and she didn't deserve it.

So he sat there miserably while Crowley injected Gail with his own blood, and then Cas endured the sight of her and his Brother looking at each other when Crowley was done. Cas grabbed the glass in front of him and drained its contents.

Gail came back and sat beside him. She poured herself another shot of brandy and drank it, then she leaned back against the couch cushions and closed her eyes.

Cas looked at her with concern. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.

Gail kept her eyes closed and waved her hand in his direction. "Give me a minute," she said wearily.

She couldn't believe it. Now she had another shot of Crowley in her. That made two from him, and two from Cas. Exactly how many more doses would it take to get this thing done? And would she even give a damn by the time it got to that point? She knew a considerable part of Cas didn't even want the cure, but the Castiel in him was fighting that part, and it was him who was here, cooperating. How long before she was split down the middle, as he was now?

She opened her eyes and sat up, looking at Cas. She moved closer to him. "Kiss me," she said to him. He looked at her, surprised. "Here? Now?" he said.

"I want to see if I'm ready," she said. Then she smiled sadly. "And I need a reminder of what I'm doing all of this for."

So he leaned forward and kissed her gently, and when she pulled him closer to her and opened his mouth with her tongue, he gave his tongue back to her. OK. She was ready now.

Gail stood from the couch. "Let's go kick some ass," she said to the men. She pointed to Crowley. "Don't forget that vial."

Crowley smiled as he pocketed the vial. Even if their quest wasn't successful, this could be entertaining. It seemed that Gail had regained her spirit, and he liked the way she had spoken to Castiel. And now she had another dose of himself in her. Lucifer and Metatron had better beware.

\- END OF BOOK 8. -


End file.
